I do not need to cry
My God does it for me.
I do not need loudness
His thunder pounds my heart.
I am not invisible. I only live in a world with no time for me. I lay down, close my eyes, and see myself in a bubble surrounded by the fresh air of my God. He is my hiding place. It is He who understands me, who answers my heart and soul with peace. It should be enough, but it is still oftentimes such a lonely place. I love to feel His comforting peace and an arm around my shoulder. Why do I have to live in this world where I do not belong? Let me merge with Thee.
I look at myself as I sit, read, ponder, and close my eyes. I can not touch my body. Duality or meditation in a dimension apart?
I hear your voice in the rolling waves, splashing and dancing rhythmically.
When the morning dawn spreads its light upon the dew, and you turn to face the warmth of wonder, will you know?
In the realms of light, warmth: shadows of white, shining through bodies bright, bathing in God’s sight.
Through pain comes healing. In light shadows lie.
An open window bids the breeze, drift inside, as she lies silently inhaling the scent of leaves, soaked by night’s pouring rain, tapping on the window pain. A streak flashes, reflecting light across the water-logged street, slushing the black asphalt with dancing, bouncing, bubble-breaking drips, and pothole puddling.
Welcoming coolness skims her skin as she listens to the pattering rythymic offering from heavily-laden clouds dispersing upon the metal eavesthroughs. In the distance, the sound of wailing sirens intrudes.
I do not belong here. My home is elsewhere. Deep in my heart, I feel thy presence and long to live with thee. Between realms, I breathe the breath thou hast granted me, sometimes barely gasping.
Once upon a time, a friend left me in a monstrous storm of grief. As the thunder crashed into my heart and lightning split darkness with momentarily shocking flashes of blinding truth, I lifted my face toward heaven and let the pounding rain flood my soul.
A cherished friendship is like a pillow, especially designed for me, a place to rest and sleep in comforting peacefulness.
Pink streaks mix in and through the marshmallow-like, fluffy animal shapes of discretely touched white billowing myths stirred by the gentle breeze, as if playing hide-and-seek or ‘catch me if you can.’ Slowly spreading, stretching, like wingtips of a mighty eagle reaching heights of gliding majesty, tips blending into subtle hues of colour gradients, while sunlight’s dimming glow entrances the imagination.
Behind the scene, wind-twisting, pulling, and pushing transformations, shaded and highlighted with tenderness in hugging strokes, akin to a skilled painter’s blending brush strokes, begin decorating the evening sky with softness, barely discernible, at first. Begging watchfulness, swaths of sheer purples, oranges, and reds please the heart, soul, and mind as they unhurriedly give way to darkening layers of shadow as the massive globed fireball of humid summer night rises with its full intensity.
A Prayer
Father, wrap your arms around me. Let me snuggle close. Let me feel your breath.
Father, help me come to thee when I’m crawling on my hands and knees, when barely treading or swallowing waves, flailing and gasping in tempestuous seas. Father, my anchor, be.
Trying to release all emotional attachments, a road one must walk in solitude of soul.
Silence breathes; within, without,
filling the hours and minutes,
like light surrounding shadow,
moving in rhythm as one.
Into my heart, I venture
where silence cradles lonely
whispering within, without.
Have you ever slowed your pace to step into a gloomy grey veil beautifully draping a solitary place? As you begin to sense the beauty in the moment, do you feel and stare at the barely discernible crystal-like, prismed droplets drizzlingly clothe you?
Like the sun caressingly filtering through the early morning mist, do you gently immerse yourself into the hearth of your heart wherein you find rest for your weary, seeking, humbled, thankful soul?
Jan 2, 2024 The only thing that keeps me going on, living some semblance of a life, with routine, is having therapy and people who want to help me. I am a solitary creature who loves being active and outdoors. The accident demolished the life I was building since Alan’s death. Yes, my family is important, but they have their busy lives and families. I am alone.
I feel like I am biding my time as best I can.
February 13, 2025. Over a year passed since these introspective moments. Through pain comes healing. Light and shadow. Reflections . . . Wow!
© Vicki Nicholls
Introspective Lenses 4 Life
I loved your words and the pictures they created. Then hearing the agony of loss and the ache made me cry….I have not loved or was loved as you were, but I do know loneliness….and the test of patience through it all….I have learned? Or is it a gift? To reach out to the ‘one’, or the many ‘ones’ who know loneliness, or who walk through their days wondering if anyone sees them or cares that they are moving through their mists and daily routines…a smile, a word, a moment of sharing…perhaps is more of a gift to me in my loneliness…the connection with another even for the brief interaction…allows me to reach out to lift the mist of daily doing from another, yet in doing so my heart feels full…a gift that comes to feed me by reaching out, if only briefly sharing a moment or two. The acknowledgement of awareness of another who needs that moment or two of connection and visibility. Is that why Jesus sought out the one and ones? Did He also need those moments of connection, of feeling that He too was visible in a world of mists? Perhaps.