Alone Becoming…Again
by Odin Roark

Moments alone in darkness,
Removed from day’s imitation
Invites quiet as comfort.

Closing one’s eyes
Reveals childhood playgrounds
Where companions shared alone,
Telling of secrets,
Once stories filling idle time
While cocooned in tree house intrigue.

Such memories,
Like under-rock-secrets
Found in shadowy woods,
Forever remain as straying-off-trail-discoveries,
One’s finish line for life’s stormy relay,
A cross country run through time,
Finally becoming the dial-face in the sky.

For some…

Time’s aspect bears not a father’s face,
Nor the big and little hands of a mother
Once gently nudging hours along.
Instead, paternal time now relaxes…
Daliesque

All names eventually merge
As a lamina among leaves,
Embraced by the wind
Where remembrance flickers
Like one’s book of candles,
Timeless pages once read by their own burning,
Now
At last,
Finally,
Peacefully,
Blissfully,
Alone becoming… Again