Tag: loneliness

Heady Vacancy

~ Layla ~ Leave a comment
25/06/22

I don’t have pets,
I have a garden full of birds.

I don’t have children,
I have a garden full of cherries.

I don’t have a husband,
I have a garden full of roses.

Delicious silence,
Intoxicating absence,
Heady vacancy.

Poetry in the dawn breeze,
Songs in the afternoon sun,
Dancing in the moonlight.

A solitude filled

with such beautiful stories
with such beautiful songs
with such beautiful sighs.

And prayers.

What is beyond these woods?
What is beyond that valley?
What is beyond that day?

God knows…

Therein I place my trust.
Therein I build my home.
Therein I keep my peace.

My home,
My Lord.

My love,
My Lord.

My joy,
My Lord.

Alone
but never out of sorts.

Alone
but never out hope.

Alone
but never out of dreams.

May I forget those ghosts
who linger in my thoughts.

May I forget those ghosts
who hover in my hopes.

May I forget those ghosts
who drift in my reveries.

Those who left my path
Those who broke our bridge
Those who closed that gate

Must remain gone.

Unless they have found a map
Unless they have found a compass
Unless they have found their direction

and they know our journey must be one.

But such things only happen in

dreams
stories
songs

So I will weave but I shall not hope.

Let it be as God wills it.

02/12/20

~ Layla ~ Leave a comment

The room is warm behind me
The window is cold in front of me.

But I don’t look away.

The magpies in their cocktail dresses.
The great tits in their matching smokings.
The robin with her pinafore and a bleeding heart.

And beyond them, the woods.
And beyond them, the roads,
And beyond them, the streets.

Never-ending streets

That brought me here.
That lead me nowhere.
That took them away.

Watched some of them go,
Cheered some as they went,
Missed some who fled away.

I drink my coffee from your forgotten mug,
I wrap myself in the shawl you made for me,
I write in the notebook you gifted me.

I remember the voices.
I remember the jokes.
I remember the tears.

It’s not a goodbye,
It’s not an ending,
It’s not a last page.

There’s a long way to the sea.

Maybe tomorrow,
Maybe next year,
Maybe in fifty years,

We’ll laugh again.
We’ll hope again.
We’ll remember again.

Sisters,
Friends,
Fellow human beings.

I hope you remember the warmth.
I hope you remember the dreams.
I hope you remember the prayers.

That we shared.
That we shall share forever.

In distant echoes,
In loud memories,
In gentle smiles.

I will carry you with me.
I will weave you over me.
I will keep you in my words.

Until then,

I listen to the wind whispering to the trees.
I breathe in the rich scents of autumn.
I watch the birds chatter, leave and return.

And when it’s too cold,

I crawl to my hearth,
I huddle under the eiderdown.
I warm my heart with words.

Stories,
Song,
Sighs

of what is sure to come.

My own flight.
My own knight.
My own heights.

Dear sisters,

One day,
It will be my turn.

And he will be kind.
And he will be gentle.
And he will be true.

… With him, I will also find

Contentment.
Felicity.
Joy.

And a hand in mine.
And a face against mine.
And a breath mingling with mine.

Our very own path through the woods…

To wherever our hearts take us to.
To wherever our prayers take us to.
To wherever our Lord take us to.

Home.

12/09/19

~ Layla ~ Leave a comment

I’m tired of talking,
I’m tired of writing,
I’m tired of the distance….

The distance between us.
The waves  between us.
The screens between us.

I am tossed to and fro by

The restless combers.
The deep tremors.
The raging gusts.

Do you think the storm is roaring outside too?

Inside,
It ripes your pictures in shreds.
It throws your words around like dust.
It batters m heart into pulp.

I don’t want empty promises.
I don’t want hollow poetry.
I want to be held.

Your arms,
His arms,
are better than words.

But you’re not here.
He’s not here either.
Only the freezing gale.

Thus,

I am left with words.
I am left with poetry.
I am left with songs.

If I sing loud enough,
Will you hear me?

If I sing softly enough,
Will your heart hear me?

If I sing deeply enough,
Will your soul hear me?

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… And recognize that primordial tune?

08/09/19

~ Layla ~ Leave a comment

Alone isn’t the right word,
Dear.

Lonely is perhaps the right word,
Love.

And you fill me up with your kind woods.
And you make me dance with your stories-
And you make me glimmer with your interest.

He cares.
He does.
I fall asleep with a smile.

He doesn’t know me.
He doesn’t understand me.
I wake up with a frown.

I run,
I jump into the waves,
and swim so far away.

This is my loneliness-
Its my garb.
It’s my tower.

Mine, not yours.
Me, not you.

But you recognize yourself in my faltering smile.
But you recognize yourself in my uneven words.
But you recognize yourself in my bittersweet tears.

Two weatherbeaten travelers.

Sharing a story by the campfire.
Sharing a prayer around dawn.
Sharing a wordless longing.

But dear,
I am not yours.

But dear,
You are not mine.

We belong to ghosts.
We belong to the departed.
We don’t even belong to ourselves.

Love,

Hush, it’ll be aright.
Hush, I pray that you find love.
Hush, this story isn’t ours.

I am not your gentle crutch.
You are not my pretty illusion.

Your arms cannot hold me.
My heart cannot contain you.

The waves lapping at my feet.
The wind tearing at my heart.
Tears making my smile shine.

Like a beacon of hope.
Like a steady lighthouse.
Like a fading signal fire.

Fading…

The warm comforter,
in tatters.

The delicate sparkler,
and darkness.

The soothing echo,
and silence.

And you are the one who waited.

The rain beating on your face,
Your body merging to that bench.
The darkness covering your loyalty.

Dear,

let us shake hands with a blessing .
let us take the path that calls us.
let us belong to our own solitude.

Fare thee well.