We are alone. The only person that I know is me. Who's watching? Everyone is.
We are truly alone. Silent in our own body and our own mind.
We are alone. We are born and we die.
It's a short window before it closes and opens for someone or something else.
Yes. We have family and friends, but they too are alone.
We are of our own space and matter. Our own dust.
Grasp life before the sands of death overcome. We are alone.
Are we? Who is my God? Is there a being that is my being?
Dust clung together by hope.
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Author:
C.J. Knudsen (
Offline) - Published: July 16th, 2018 13:43
- Comment from author about the poem: I was hiking in Vermont on a beautiful summer day. I did not see or pass another hiker. It was just me and my thoughts. Solitude is sometimes bliss.\r\n\r\nC.J.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 38
Offline)
Comments1
Dust clung together by hope
I love that line.
It sums it all up so well.
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