solitude

She crafts solitude as if a sanctuary,
Gently and thoughtfully resting in her soul.
Whisper to her! Say her solitude is a symphony to your senses
Yet a balm not to your being.
Tell her that self found you
And with quiet strength it embraced you,
Then calm and complete it slowly began to bloom,
Nevermore to drift astray.

It might sail beyond the ordered realm
Into the wilds of wonder,
Brushing against the stones and colliding with the world
Tearing the veil and tumble evermore
Yet It will outlast the tempest of its own making,
And anchor itself home.