Streets of Solitude
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Ink's Forgiveness or Solitude Contest 12/8/24
I would have sought some beautiful retreat,
Remote from cities and the din of men, ~
Some tranquil shore where lake and forest meet
By limpid stream or flower-lit, sylvan glen,
And would have reared, where non could e'er intrude,
A shrine to thee, O precious Solitude.
~ John L. Stoddard
Like poet, Stoddard, I've found beautiful places to retreat.
My safe havens are streets of solitude where I walk alone.
They are not paved of gold for it's not their wealth I seek,
nor do I feel cold when I step upon them in my bare feet.
My road is not laid with yellow bricks lined with poppies
It's not a wily wizard's help I implore from a city of green.
My streets are serene, and in solitude I find peace of mind.
I never have need to turn a blind eye to atrocities I've seen.
No sticks and stones are thrown at me when I wander there
Never do I feel the need to hurry along the paths with care
Sometimes I wind my way down a country lane
where I can act totally insane without fear of retribution,
or the need to find a solution for worries that weigh me down.
In my personal places, I don't wear a furrowed brow or a frown,
One of the roads I often traveled is made of sand,
where waves agree with my thoughts, and not with a reprimand.
There are no rules at the ocean's side, no ebb and flow of a tide
for only in myself do I confidently confide my sacred secrets.
No false facades face these streets to swirl and curl my toes.
No lies or alibis ever find a niche in corners or shadows,
for all that matters is that I believe my streets of solitude
have the amplitude to make me well,
as if releasing me from the depths of hell.
I dwell on such a street in my time of need.
It happens when the outside world is focused on warring and greed.
I erect barriers and blockades in my mind. No one can find me when
my street is strong fortress strong, and no wrong invades my life.
In silence I refuse to hear the bitterness of mankind,
or the foolish words they speak, for they've been expelled.
I rediscovered myself, time and again when I cross the threshold
to the corner of Alone and Contented.
I've not rented a room on any of my streets for a shelter is never needed.
I've heeded the call of a babbling brook to sit a spell and simply
read a book or close my eyes never fearing reprise or wear a disguise
in self-defense.
I can be idle or imagine I'm at a music recital, my fingers on piano keys. Please don't assume it's laziness I feel or that I'm antisocial, though sometimes being around others holds no appeal.
It's my choice and I'm not being rude when I take a walk on my own.
There is solace to be found in solitude.
The streets give me freedom to choose my own way...
but never to lose it or myself.
Copyright © Lin Lane | Year Posted 2024
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