Authentic Lonelyness
Authentic lonelyness —
Is not the Empty Room —
Nor Silence pacing softly
Where Conversation bloomed —
It is the Crowd that passes —
And does not see the Face —
The Hand extended inward —
Unanswered — in its Place —
It is to speak in True —
And hear no Echo — born —
As if the Soul were Winter —
And every Listener — Morn —
It is to love the Language —
Yet find no Ear that stays —
To build a careful Meaning —
That vanishes — like Haze —
The authentic lonelyness —
Wears no dramatic Guise —
It lives within the Ordinary —
And learns to be — its Skies —
Yet still — it keeps a Candor —
No Falsehood learns to keep —
For those who know its Residence —
Are never — wholly — Asleep —
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