The well had run dry for some days. But, this morning, this free-verse came to visit me. We all know people like this. Sometimes it is ourselves. A celebration of the bittersweet taste of being unique.
The Great Alone
How
Might we reach them,
Those in
The great alone?
Off in the fog,
Weighed down,
By their darkness,
Dampened in spirit,
Hunched and huddled
Into the day?
What is it
That cuts them off,
Casts them into the mire,
And makes them not able
To be reached?
Why they may not
Have their hand out,
Searching,
For another’s hand,
To reach and grasp
And draw them in.
They feel so alone,
Cut off
From others,
Yet unable
To speak their pain.
They seek another,
But who can truly share
The depths
They hold within?
How much of this alone,
This measure on the scales,
Is unable to be offered,
Shared with another?
How much
Is that a unique alone,
That ‘just me’,
That no one else
Can truly comprehend,
Because they are
Someone else?
How do we hold them,
Their damp, dark spirits,
In the fog,
When they realise
That we each
have an alone
that is unique to ourself,
and no other human
can truly dwell
with us
in that beautiful
yet alone
place?
Simon C.J. Falk 26 April 2014
Lovely! Thanks for buying and reading my book!
My pleasure Giorge. Hope many more buy it.