Had to share this powerful poem. I can relate to the pull between desiring and reveling in passionate interaction with life and also needing the reprieve that comes with aloneness and quiet.
Hope you enjoy this poem as much as I did.
By Eve Hinson, QuirkyBirdWords.com & #TheReal5150
I stand here barefoot on carpet,
the fiber of comfort and home pressed into my soles.
The Quiet, stands with me.
We watch branches and leaves swing through a wet window.
The Quiet doesn’t echo the cacophony in my mind.
Instead it’s a friend and wraps me in a swathe of emptiness
like a blanket.
It provides comfort in fear,
and its silence feels like a threadbare and button-eyed love
hugged fierce in the dark.
It comforts more than honeyed chamomile
and says absolutely nothing when I need it the most.
The Quiet is never jealous when I return home.
It doesn’t chide that I stink of Chaos
and then shame me for where I’ve been.
solitude is always offered
and I’m reminded this is where I belong.
No matter what, I can always be here
and seek peace from the…
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