Point of Solitude

"The point of passing time in solitude is to strip yourself bare, to discover what is essential and true. When you're stripped down to this point, you see how little you amount to. But that little is all that God is interested in. He doesn't give a damn about the rest." (taken from the Music of Silence by Phyllis Rose, an essay written in Atlantic Monthly, 1997)

The Walk with a View

We were in Bandon by the Sea ( Oregon ) to celebrate the lowest tide last week.To see the living things ( sea anemone, starfish and shellfish) below and above the water line before and after the tides is wonderful. Walking on the suddenly vast sandy beach and circle the huge boulders is an enjoyable experience. I started to understand the solitude of some people who sojourned on an island and looked at the ocean every day. The feel of the sand, the sound of waves touching the shore and seeing the boulders and rock formations are enough solace for the soul.

Simplicity

I'm reading again Thoreau's Walden and a little more closely than before.
It's a call from the wilderness-Simplify, simplify. My struggle is to do just that.
But I'm able to write a little bit again. My poem:
MONDAY
The out-of-season rain had stopped.
A morning of wet roads and dense traffic,
A meditation on economic disarray.
Monday was not an ordinary day
Waking after a deep sleep.

You were in a hurry, seemingly
Uncaring, your eyes darting
From the cup of coffee
And half eaten cinnamon rolls
To the darkening clouds outside.

You wondered what the place of man
In the universe, the meaning of existence
“In 140 characters or less” on cyberspace.
The TV news was real and significant
The swine flu had arrived.

There was no solace in covered faces
In unrecognizable worried faces
In a quantum world of possibilities.
What if the pandemic was of affection
Would you say goodbye and kiss me?