In the end, we aren't always alone. Just lonely.

Thursday, April 15, 2010
A Passage of Humanness

It's the little things that amuse
Life isn't as grand as we make it to be
We all drift along on our own leaves
Whether on a cool breeze
or on a busy stream
Our psyches colliding
in dangerous or passionate
or angry or friendly embraces

It's the simple things that comfort
Life isn't as hard as we make it to be
living is hard, especially if done alone
We make our choice to be alone
Sometimes out of pride
or out of circumstance
Our souls careening
in self destructive or forgotten
or self loathing or quiet ways

It's those moments of peace we crave
Life finds meaning in simple things
We are small boats on a vast ocean
Whether in a heavy squall
or on a water becalmed
Our hearts find healing
in open or loving
or understanding or hopeful faces
Photo: Broken Windows on A Forgotten Past, By J.R. White


  1. Anonymous12:53 PM

    "Our souls careening
    in self destructive or forgotten
    or self loathing or quiet ways"
    - those lines particularlty struck me. careening is the perfect word for it!

  2. Love it! The little things combined become large together, trick is to notice them *hug*

  3. I'm thankful for the faces I can see frm my boat - including yours.

  4. Isn't the light bright when you leave a dark room?
    Isn't silence deafening when you have been bombarded by noise?
    Isn't fresh air clean when you leave the city?
    Aren't the good times good when you have suffered the bad?


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