We are born alone
And we die alone
At our happiest and most triumphant
We are alone
And when we at our most forlorn
When we mourn
We are alone too
These moments are when we are closest
To the heart of who we really are
Either becoming
Or going
Arriving
Departing
Heartfelt and excruciating
The clay being moulded
We journey through these moments
Best alone
Listening to the sound of our own heartbeat
Following that internal drum
Taking out the map
Smoothing out the wrinkles
It’s been back there in your pocket
The whole time
Time to start walking
The clay is being moulded
In the potters hands
But the pot understands
The strength of the clay determines
Whether it can easily be broken
I think when you realise that no one is coming to save you. That solace is an internal thing. That triumph is an internal thing.
At those pinnacle moments and in the depths of despair a wall seems to come up – maybe it is just a great big pair of angel wings – I’m not sure – but having been to both places a few times I know the feeling of being alone yet protected – loved – and hugged.
I call it holding my own hand – but yeah – maybe it’s a big pair of angel wings – why not? If this is the case I would also like my angel to look hot ππ tall dark handsome – just saying π have a lovely day people.
Header image is again west coast of Aust down near Smiths Beach. Amazing part of the world.
Wow, that’s really awesome, wonderfully written mam. We have born alone and will die alone as according to our destiny. But we born with cry while people were happy and when we should die, we have to happy to happy with our deeds so that people will be crying for our death.
Yes of course – humans are no good without one another – I think it is just an internal thing – like when you have run a marathon and your body is broken but you are so happy and you can be surrounded by people also happy and feeling a sense of achievement and camaraderie but your particular circumstance is your own. The same with gravesides. Surrounded by other mourners – your particular form of pain is your own. -I love your comments – I can hear your accent. π
Thank you so much for more clarification. I liked your response and way of judgment.
Cool – poetry is very hard to pin down and we all filter it in a different way _ Itβs good when you comment because it can help someone else out if they are wondering.
Off course, poetry is too much and only true and tricky people can handle it with care.
Oh that last part! Lol… π
Have you seen that Netflix series I canβt think of the name but Lucien is gorgeous and the whole fallen angel thing well… πππ
I haven’t seen it, but I’m a sucker for stuff like this! I’d probably love it! Lol…. π
Love this post darling you doing a great job love it
Thankyou – you too π
Thank you to ππ
I really, really enjoyed this one. Humans are social and emotional creatures, we tend to embody the collective emotions of the ones around us.
Yessss!
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