Solitude

The truth is

I feel intruded

This constant and aggressive building

Tree after tree being torn up-woods cleared-the diminishing green space

I wonder how do the animals feel

Trapped-suffocated-despair?

.

I long to walk where there is quietness

No sound of traffic-no running cars-no airplane overhead-no unending rumbling and growling of machines

The helicopters, when they fly by, our house shakes and vibrates

.

I long to be, where there is

only the sound of the wind

Combing through the leaves

The sighing of the tree like a symphony in their own rhythm

The water gentle trickling

Or gurgling

The chirping of birds

Or the trilling of their songs

.

You can even hear

the fall of a petal of a winter bloom

If you hold

s t i l l

enough

.

I can walk through the winter woods with barren branches

protrude to the sky

I can just sit on the stone bench

.

Alone

Watch

.

Absorb

And be absorbed

.

Sometimes

Simply being quiet and motionless

Is another act of worship

.

This poem was originally published on my Medium page. Please subscribe if you would like to read more of my work. Thanks!