Longing For Kind

Once she stood outside the circle, pining and afraid Her best gifts a trifle, far too meager to assuage The Exalted Ones, but, trembling, she still offered her page Silence, the only voice answered- Until, falling from nowhere, his lavish praise Enveloped, reassured, redeemed, elevated Suddenly, she was swept along in a flood of belonging His rite of initiation allowed her into the tribe She was accepted and glowed with pride Everything fit, everything clicked- Then, in a drought of words, his esteem evaporated His devotion drifted to dust Leaving her exiled in the desert of disillusionment She attempted to recover his grace With honey-coated nuggets of bait But it was clear another had captured his fickle charm So she scorned the "damn with faint praise" blow And learned to harden her fragile ego She gathered her splintered self to shoulder on And seek a new sun in a different dawn "Lonliness is not a longing for company, it is a longing for kind" - Marilyn French, "The Women's Room." 4/22/18