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Transcending Loneliness
- Transcending Loneliness -
Within the golden woods of the afternoon, when fading light did shower down…
The forest canopy was bedecked with splendor, aglow like unto a kingly crown.
I trod upon a carpet of leaves and grassy earth, rich in history and time’s work…
Whilst the birds in the heavens above did play, as below many animals did smirk.
Older than the world we know, this realm I entered was one both quaint and fey,
Far removed from the civilization prized by those who know not the secret way.
I came upon the waters of a pond, the path I walked having led me far abroad…
And deeper into the woodland kingdom: than I had ventured on any earlier road.
This pond was seemingly ablaze with radiance from the setting sun’s last display,
And just before night arose in starry glory, I beheld an apparition holding sway.
In its’ ghostly way, as spirits possess, it formed as though made from out of air,
Although nothing frightful, as some oft behold, I felt no urge to run or to beware.
Imperious as a queen of ancient lands now little more than names in storied tales,
She seemed to float upon the water, her diaphanous gown about her skin so pale.
Filled with the late afternoon’s fading light, she pointed towards an old path nearby,
And then was gone, this lady of Faerie, and what I had seen I could not ever deny.
I turned to the path, and set my feet to walking, amidst what light was left for me,
Until far, far deeper I was in those forgotten wilds than I had wished at first to be.
Surrounded by the green of living life, as illuminated by the light of a harvest moon,
Which cast all in shadows, both soft and encompassing, I hastened my pace soon.
At last I came to ring of toadstools, where wispy lights flitted about the little seats,
Where faerie maids danced ‘round about, drinking mead and dining upon sweets.
They looked up at the stars, their eyes wild with abandonment of all earthly care,
And something frightened me about their mad manner, with each one’s odd stare.
Approaching the dancers, I discovered them to be but images from another time…
That vanished as ghosts upon the wind, leaving naught but their memories behind.
Leaving the faerie ring alone, for sacred and magical was the grove wherein it lay,
I followed a wisp that chanced to flit upon the air, down a dark and hidden way.
Past rocky cliffs that rose beside the trail, my feet upon a gravelly road long lost,
Where dark wraiths flitted just out of sight, and darker things still paid their cost.
Then it was the wisp was a maid short of stature, with darksome hair and eyes…
Who bade me follow her farther still, her compassion for me difficult to disguise.
I heeded her warnings not to stray from the way, upon which we so were bound,
For the perils of that place I have not words to speak of, and they lay all around.
Where serpents crawl, and spiders spin, their webs and girth greater than proper,
Ensnaring, devouring, the dark as children fear it: a living chaos without any order.
Around and around, then under the ground, the maiden’s path did chance to go,
Into a hidden realm: where many thorn bushes and brambles so wildly did grow.
Past pits in which spirits were trapped by things for which no tongue has a name,
Beyond which lay chasms filled with bones, and endless spaces filled with flame.
Pale cities, dark under a starless sky, wrapped in a green light livid and frightful,
Marked our way, as I began to wonder if what awaited us would be delightful…
If any delight could be in this netherworld through which we now sadly traveled,
Yet still I made my heart believe that this would soon pass, a tapestry unraveled.
I asked my guide wither we were bound, but silent was she, stopping but to turn,
And I saw her eyes were shadow, which seemed, like fire, to consume and burn.
They entranced me, held me with some power over which my will had no power,
Save to bow and surrender, so great was that spirit for which so passed the hour.
“This place has a name, and that name is loneliness, for it exists in all who are so.
The more who must endure life’s pains: without the light of love to ease the woe,
These same make populace this realm, for within it dwells the pain men oft hide.
That pain which comes from solitude unwanted, in which always the lonely abide.
It drifts into the Netherworld, that pain, and forms this realm as a physical place…
Where the souls who never knew true peace in life, vent far from Heaven’s face.
Neither a heaven nor a hell; neither reward nor condemnation, but lonely sorrow,
Itself far worse, perhaps, than anything devils could contrive in a dark morrow.”
I wept at these words of my guide’s, and asked if these souls knew any peace,
At which she showed me to a pair of doors, towering and thick with iron hinges.
Upon it a thousand souls entwined, and flowers bloomed where they were not…
So real this image, that I know what lay beyond it must be grand beyond thought.
She pressed upon them, and they opened effortlessly, beyond which was a cave,
Filled with endless night, where at the far end was a pinprick of light, which gave:
A shimmering glow that made one wish for the embrace; such warmth it retained,
That soon I was following the strange maid once more, my feet feeling so strained!
In imitation of the way to Heaven, this corridor led endlessly yet with a certain end,
To a brilliant garden beneath the earth: where no lonely soul went without a friend.
Men who died with no companion, walked hand in hand with nymphs most fair…
And women who never knew love in life, had satyrs place flowers upon their hair.
Those who lost their loved ones spoke with beings that bore their likeness here…
And all enjoyed the company of angels and gods who so accepted everyone near.
Around the throne of a dark queen: whose darkness was beauty so very exquisite,
That none could pass her gaze without returning it lovingly; all were beholden to it.
“When those you saw in that darker place grow beyond their loneliness at long last,
They come to this Elysian paradise, where they enjoy this fine and glorious a repast.
For not all of the Netherworld is gloom and shadow, and all loneliness must cease…
If not in life, then why not beyond it, for merciful are the powers that grant us peace!
Although there is a fountain here, which flows with the tears lonely people do weep,
It exists to remind us that no one should be without companionship, so dear to keep.
The fountain of tears is tended by goddesses of love, who hear the sadness so cried,
Especially on holiday seasons, when some for loneliness’ sake oft despair and die.”
Which reminded me of my own sorrow; for have I not nearly despaired in that way?
How many times I imagined no one heard my sorrow, until I had naught left to say!
Yet, here are spirits that try to intervene and guide those who long to love’s side…
Constrained though they be by time and space, this they so sought in me to confide.
In the midst of the revelry, Bacchus roused those assembled to sing and dance, all,
With holly boughs bent around their brows: and singing within that most happy hall.
Occasionally, a couple would be picked up by descending seraphs, and brought up,
Through a brilliant glow, like sunlight mixed with snow, near the cavern’s very top…
I knew them to be those worthy of Heaven, having known enough joy here to rise,
Beyond the Netherworld far below: much, perhaps, to their own wondering surprise.
The maid who had guided me through all of this, suddenly upon my lips gifted a kiss,
Into which I felt my spirit being drawn, as I abandoned myself to this oblivion’s bliss.
Awakening near the faerie ring in the forest, the first snow of winter fair descending,
Walking home I allowed myself, despite my loneliness, the luxury of hope unending.
That before my time comes to enter those timeless halls beyond this world’s bounds,
I may know a love that will transcend, even the glory I beheld within those grounds.
Within the golden woods of the afternoon, when fading light did shower down…
The forest canopy was bedecked with splendor, aglow like unto a kingly crown.
I trod upon a carpet of leaves and grassy earth, rich in history and time’s work…
Whilst the birds in the heavens above did play, as below many animals did smirk.
Older than the world we know, this realm I entered was one both quaint and fey,
Far removed from the civilization prized by those who know not the secret way.
I came upon the waters of a pond, the path I walked having led me far abroad…
And deeper into the woodland kingdom: than I had ventured on any earlier road.
This pond was seemingly ablaze with radiance from the setting sun’s last display,
And just before night arose in starry glory, I beheld an apparition holding sway.
In its’ ghostly way, as spirits possess, it formed as though made from out of air,
Although nothing frightful, as some oft behold, I felt no urge to run or to beware.
Imperious as a queen of ancient lands now little more than names in storied tales,
She seemed to float upon the water, her diaphanous gown about her skin so pale.
Filled with the late afternoon’s fading light, she pointed towards an old path nearby,
And then was gone, this lady of Faerie, and what I had seen I could not ever deny.
I turned to the path, and set my feet to walking, amidst what light was left for me,
Until far, far deeper I was in those forgotten wilds than I had wished at first to be.
Surrounded by the green of living life, as illuminated by the light of a harvest moon,
Which cast all in shadows, both soft and encompassing, I hastened my pace soon.
At last I came to ring of toadstools, where wispy lights flitted about the little seats,
Where faerie maids danced ‘round about, drinking mead and dining upon sweets.
They looked up at the stars, their eyes wild with abandonment of all earthly care,
And something frightened me about their mad manner, with each one’s odd stare.
Approaching the dancers, I discovered them to be but images from another time…
That vanished as ghosts upon the wind, leaving naught but their memories behind.
Leaving the faerie ring alone, for sacred and magical was the grove wherein it lay,
I followed a wisp that chanced to flit upon the air, down a dark and hidden way.
Past rocky cliffs that rose beside the trail, my feet upon a gravelly road long lost,
Where dark wraiths flitted just out of sight, and darker things still paid their cost.
Then it was the wisp was a maid short of stature, with darksome hair and eyes…
Who bade me follow her farther still, her compassion for me difficult to disguise.
I heeded her warnings not to stray from the way, upon which we so were bound,
For the perils of that place I have not words to speak of, and they lay all around.
Where serpents crawl, and spiders spin, their webs and girth greater than proper,
Ensnaring, devouring, the dark as children fear it: a living chaos without any order.
Around and around, then under the ground, the maiden’s path did chance to go,
Into a hidden realm: where many thorn bushes and brambles so wildly did grow.
Past pits in which spirits were trapped by things for which no tongue has a name,
Beyond which lay chasms filled with bones, and endless spaces filled with flame.
Pale cities, dark under a starless sky, wrapped in a green light livid and frightful,
Marked our way, as I began to wonder if what awaited us would be delightful…
If any delight could be in this netherworld through which we now sadly traveled,
Yet still I made my heart believe that this would soon pass, a tapestry unraveled.
I asked my guide wither we were bound, but silent was she, stopping but to turn,
And I saw her eyes were shadow, which seemed, like fire, to consume and burn.
They entranced me, held me with some power over which my will had no power,
Save to bow and surrender, so great was that spirit for which so passed the hour.
“This place has a name, and that name is loneliness, for it exists in all who are so.
The more who must endure life’s pains: without the light of love to ease the woe,
These same make populace this realm, for within it dwells the pain men oft hide.
That pain which comes from solitude unwanted, in which always the lonely abide.
It drifts into the Netherworld, that pain, and forms this realm as a physical place…
Where the souls who never knew true peace in life, vent far from Heaven’s face.
Neither a heaven nor a hell; neither reward nor condemnation, but lonely sorrow,
Itself far worse, perhaps, than anything devils could contrive in a dark morrow.”
I wept at these words of my guide’s, and asked if these souls knew any peace,
At which she showed me to a pair of doors, towering and thick with iron hinges.
Upon it a thousand souls entwined, and flowers bloomed where they were not…
So real this image, that I know what lay beyond it must be grand beyond thought.
She pressed upon them, and they opened effortlessly, beyond which was a cave,
Filled with endless night, where at the far end was a pinprick of light, which gave:
A shimmering glow that made one wish for the embrace; such warmth it retained,
That soon I was following the strange maid once more, my feet feeling so strained!
In imitation of the way to Heaven, this corridor led endlessly yet with a certain end,
To a brilliant garden beneath the earth: where no lonely soul went without a friend.
Men who died with no companion, walked hand in hand with nymphs most fair…
And women who never knew love in life, had satyrs place flowers upon their hair.
Those who lost their loved ones spoke with beings that bore their likeness here…
And all enjoyed the company of angels and gods who so accepted everyone near.
Around the throne of a dark queen: whose darkness was beauty so very exquisite,
That none could pass her gaze without returning it lovingly; all were beholden to it.
“When those you saw in that darker place grow beyond their loneliness at long last,
They come to this Elysian paradise, where they enjoy this fine and glorious a repast.
For not all of the Netherworld is gloom and shadow, and all loneliness must cease…
If not in life, then why not beyond it, for merciful are the powers that grant us peace!
Although there is a fountain here, which flows with the tears lonely people do weep,
It exists to remind us that no one should be without companionship, so dear to keep.
The fountain of tears is tended by goddesses of love, who hear the sadness so cried,
Especially on holiday seasons, when some for loneliness’ sake oft despair and die.”
Which reminded me of my own sorrow; for have I not nearly despaired in that way?
How many times I imagined no one heard my sorrow, until I had naught left to say!
Yet, here are spirits that try to intervene and guide those who long to love’s side…
Constrained though they be by time and space, this they so sought in me to confide.
In the midst of the revelry, Bacchus roused those assembled to sing and dance, all,
With holly boughs bent around their brows: and singing within that most happy hall.
Occasionally, a couple would be picked up by descending seraphs, and brought up,
Through a brilliant glow, like sunlight mixed with snow, near the cavern’s very top…
I knew them to be those worthy of Heaven, having known enough joy here to rise,
Beyond the Netherworld far below: much, perhaps, to their own wondering surprise.
The maid who had guided me through all of this, suddenly upon my lips gifted a kiss,
Into which I felt my spirit being drawn, as I abandoned myself to this oblivion’s bliss.
Awakening near the faerie ring in the forest, the first snow of winter fair descending,
Walking home I allowed myself, despite my loneliness, the luxury of hope unending.
That before my time comes to enter those timeless halls beyond this world’s bounds,
I may know a love that will transcend, even the glory I beheld within those grounds.
Published 21st Dec 2012
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