I sit, alone. The house is quiet and I am allowed to dream.
Of days long gone and people now passed.
|By Surrender Dorothy|
Of hours to come and wishes that will come true.
|By Resin 8|
I sit, alone and marvel at how comforting it is to be silent and not need to speak or even move. My eyes follow the path of dust motes reflected in the early morning sunlight, my ears pick up on the warbling notes of a birdsong.
|By Alisa Paints|
I sit, alone and my heart beats out an even rhythm, an ebb and flow of life and dying, of having and losing. A song I used to sing comes unbidden and I let it escape from my throat softly, softly, afraid the slightest sound will break the warm, golden spell I am in.
My shadow grows long and my coffee is cold. Around me the house is starting to fill with the sounds of life returning – my son calling from the doorway announcing he is home from school, my daughter cooing to one of the little pups who have come to meet her at the door as she returns from work, another son playing peek-a-boo with my little niece.
I breathe in and get up from my seat by the window, the spell of aloneness now broken. The chair I sat in is pushed back to it’s corner, to wait for when I can once again sit alone.
|By Sideways Shop|