The Sound of Loneliness

Every human has felt loneliness when friends aren’t around, friends have moved away and friends can’t come out to play. Evolution allows us to experience these ambiances to learn what comes next. Are we ones to falter, ruin an evening, a week-end, or muster joy in what we might have missed had our friends been around. It is these treasures that the spirit places in our midst. Most often family members that we might not wish to spend time with come alive allowing us to appreciate them for who they truly are, God’s blessing to us.

As age comes upon us pressures mount words are spoken or not, leaving hearts hollow cavities to fill. Some turn to the bottle some to limbs others to remedies cursing legalities engulfing their sorrows. Never finding the bottom of what truly ails them they run to catch the wind. Decades pass then one day a gesture resonates that piercing pain and if lucky would play they stop, linger, fight the embarrassment and shame and face the bastard straight on.

The sound of loneliness can only be felt at the bottom of one’s heart. Dropping a coin in a tin it reverberates the echoes of emptiness. Alone on the ocean with only sky above sea below screaming thoughts of what hasn’t been stares at you in ghosts. Stirring visions migrate into your soul across water evaporating long after consuming your fear.

How to go grasp what was once your true being. You reach out and hear

“You’ll figure it out?”  

You’re instantly back at the first blow that took you away to the depth of despair. Yearning like a babe simply to be held, to return to when you understood. Vacuity envelops you, drowning, unable to breath of what could have been. Ocean floors provide no consolation exits to rise in. Wide eye you float unconsciously unable to rescue your dream. What was it you were to do? To become?

This is your last chance to ride that train. It’s leaving the station with one destination your lungs need to expand or be crushed by twenty years of weight. Time forges ahead, it is the one constant. It knows not your aspirations nor does it care, it’s only purpose is to rhyme. Your job is to capture seconds into devotions, intentions and dedications.

To make a story of your life, rich in depth, shallow in distress and regrets.