Loneliness (15.ii.1975, Townsville)

The blanket of greyened mist
seeps through the ethereal vision of light,
the world is submerged in a sea of darkness,
separate, discorporate from existence.

Humanity is there; living, thriving, breathing,
but in its zest it forgets
those who pass as silent ghosts amongst it.

They hide unto themselves
their cries, their hunger, their pangs,
what they know alone and need alone;
despite the surface gayness and abandonment,
something moves within and desires that which is deeper.

Theirs is not the world of brashness,
for they care for the fragile poetry of the soul,
lifted aloft on gossamer wings
with the silent beauty of the sunrise;
a subtle tangible beauty exists in all that is,
through a creation endowed with the spirit of the universe.

Love of all
and rapturous joy
in sharing with those who know that joy,
yet here the lonely collect their shattered being
and go silently on as shadows
half-defined in the misty quintessence of dusk,
for the facades and restrictions of men
have kept their stony silence,
barren long of emotion.

Hope,
for that ethereal fleeting vision
of a moving closer
despite the ways of men,
and a confirmation of the truth
that joy is sorrow,
love is pain,
truth is beauty,
light is darkness.

In the blinding flash of realisation
the fragility of the soul
becomes the strength and peace of mind;
the seeds of destruction
grown in the shrine of loneliness
and grow into rich and mellowed fruitfulness.