Poem: Solitude – 18/01/21

Sometimes the solitude in my mind becomes too much.
It runs circles around and around itself,
for air, it will soon gasp.
Because the opening, the gaping of the truest arms
is something too available,
for something unasked.

Little nuances here and there,
bad habits being acknowledged,
must be aware,
for because how can improvement occur
where we’re idolising change of dust relative to the sun?
I’ll tell you this: my own constellation could stun.

Thus, I’ll allow myself to be here,
proud and quiet,
in my own right,
I will never give up this new-found fight,
where palms around coated with thick, relaxing oils,
straight from Mother Earth.
transformation,
I am sold.

© 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Demian Tejeda-Benitez on Unsplash

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