Solitude
Is at times
Like a gust of fresh air
An open space in which to breathe
At others
It is an asphyxiating absence
A vacuum to be filled
There is a stillness now
A silence
To permeate
All the hours of the day
And of the night
And in the nascent chasm between
It is uncertainty that hangs about the room
As smoke which drifts and floats on currents otherwise unseen
Drawn deep to lungs not unfamiliar the bitter taste
Soon expelled as so many times before
The cycle unbroken
Repeated with blind faith
Hoping and waiting
That clarity may return
Objects, and the Distance Between Them 
We all do feel hollow at times and that this vacuum can’t be filled
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Yes, yes we do… But we try. 🙂
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Beautiful. Yes, hoping and waiting. The need for clarity. I love this
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Thank you! What a joy, both the wait and the final product. We hope that clarity is found along the way… 🙂
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Sometimes silence cam be golden, comfortable at others and very disturbing at times.
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Exactly, Sadje. It is a matter of perspective. 😉
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I loved the way you described the discomfort of a heavy silence.
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Thank you. 🙂
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