…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