It’s you and me alone again tonight.
And the great expanse that flickers in your light.
I haven’t seen you in a little while.
It’s been hard down here.
In the paradoxical cheer,
you like to call my life.
On some days I don’t need the dark,
As you know.
I do well in my unblemished face.
Once I’m blushed and bronzed
Not a soul could ever see a trace.
And then I vanish.
Each time, you know.
Into entrancing screens,
that hurt my eyes and all the space that’s in between.
You’re gone by then.
Or is it me?
Who leaves you like a fool whenever I get lonely.
Oh, how I wish it were a fractured leg,
and not this fracture in my head.
You know the one.
That splits from inside-out instead.
I’m missing you by now.
the light down here is not enough.
True. I’ve been able to succeed.
I know the drive in thunder and in rain,
so worth it for the gain.
And yes, I’ve laughed.
I know the kind that ripples through the bones,
it soothes you to your core.
I’m good at loving too.
The noble type, where you’re for them
more than they are for you.
I dance on top these pillars.
Their attempt to hold life up for me.
But the struggle is the distance
from seeing to being seen.
There must be others down here,
dancing next to me,
to the song of disconnection,
called happy irony.
If only I could reach them.
To tell them it’s okay.
That to be alone in loneliness
is never a disgrace.
Perhaps they have a star.
I hope they do.
They only need the one,
to be the light that sees them through.
If you would like to listen to this poem performed as part of an exquisite podcast for the restless heads and racing hearts, Night Light, visit:
This is a touching , poetic, intelligent poem which will surely resonate with many. It is beautifully read doing justice to the content
Sent from my iPhone
Dear Natalie, your poem is achingly beautiful and profound. In a magical and subtle way, it bears the truth about our human condition and our tentative connectedness to the universe, which we are part of. We seek solace in it, but fear its infinity and coldness at the same time, unless we find a single bright star, through which we are able to see ourselves as we are. Love and thank you, Aunty Dorota