Heart Of The Matter
To Be Alone
I sat a while, in this lonely place,
The sound of gentle water,
Lapping on the shore,
The peacefulness of dusk,
Invading the troubled mind,
And easing the heavily burdened heart,
I heard a seabird call,
A plaintive cry heard clearly,
Above the sound of the waves,
And I searched the dappled sky,
For a final fleeting sight,
A cool breeze forged through the trees,
And whistled softly,
Pleasing, to the ear,
And bringing forth its own sweet song,
I am lost in the moment,
And hold my breath,
In a futile attempt to stem the tides,
I marvel at the clouds in the distance,
Tinged by the dying embers of the sun,
In mellow tones of enchantment,
They carry my secret,
For only they know, I am here,
I thought about God then,
This strange omnipresent being,
Feared and flattered,
By constant praise and chagrin,
Meted out by many mortal souls,
Hedging their bets on His very existence,
Did I hear Him laugh then?
At the ludicrous sight before Him,
This woman, cold and alone,
Yet, grateful for His company,
For in truth, on such a night,
This was not the time,
Nor the place,
To be alone.
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To Be Alone
To Be Alone
