These past few weeks have left my spirit feeling tired. The headlines, the heartache, the constant noise of the world… it’s a lot.
When I start to feel overwhelmed like this, I often turn to poetry. Not to push the pain away, but to name it. To turn it into something I can hold and understand.
This week, I’m sharing a poetry prompt from The Magic Words by Joseph Fasano that I found particularly moving. It explores the difference between loneliness and solitude, and helps to lead us from one to the other.
You’ll find the full prompt below, along with my own response. If you feel inspired to write your own, I’d love to read it. You can send it to me or share it in the comments. I hope that it helps you feel some peace, as it did for me.
Loneliness / Solitude
Pages 44-45 in The Magic Words: Simple Poetry Prompts that Unlock the Creativity in Everyone by Joseph Fasano
Loneliness differs from solitude in that loneliness is a feeling of isolation, separation, being without the company you need. Solitude, however, is the enjoyment of your own company, when you feel at peace with the moon, the stars, books, memories, and yourself. This prompt helps us move from the ache of loneliness to the comfort of solitude.
__________________________ [Loneliness/Solitude Poem (Title)]
After __________ing all day. (insert a verb)
I walk out through the ____________ (insert a noun)
and __________ among the __________s. (insert a verb / insert a noun.)
No one knows where I am.
And then I hear it:
the __________ of the __________, (insert a noun / insert a noun)
the _________ __________ (insert adjective a / insert a noun)
in the __________, (insert a noun)
and I am __________ . I am finally __________. (insert adjective / insert same adjective)
No one knows where I am.
Evening Commute
by Candice McMath
After working all day,
I walk out through the door
and zone out among the zinnias.
No one knows where I am.
And then I hear it:
the call of the birds,
the quiet chirps
in the woods,
and I am home. I am finally home.
No one knows where I am.
