…of solitude

In the hush of morning
when the mists circle
hiding all their secrets
I always walk alone
where no-one ever walks
deep in my own shadows

my sacred place of solitude
drenched in my memories
where what is perceived
as desolation and emptiness
fills my aching soul
until it is overflowing

becoming still rivers
that forever run
beneath my thoughts
drowning out the noise
allowing the quiet voices
to finally be heard

the whispers of my shadows
and the soft songs of the trees
the beauty of wind songs
that gently caress my skin
sending shivers
through my soul

in this moment
I am not silently watching
like the owl unseen in the night
or the lady moon
aloof in her pale palace
for here I become vast

a cathedral of bones
and dreams
empty of echoes
but filled to overflowing
with the songs of life
there is no loneliness here

just the hush of the trees
just the joy of the beating wings
and the mournful songs
of the crows
that linger in the dusk
like a sigh

here, only here
in these unguarded moments
I reunite once more
with my true self
and my heart leaps to find
that she is not a stranger
© Ann Bagnall