On a Hermit’s Shore
The edge where tranquility thrives
and whooshes from the shoreline arise.
Lonely,
but refusing to embrace the cold chill of being alone.
In the reclusion,
I hear the plashes of empathy that love rides on,
Which had thus far become forborne.

This purl can't be heard in a world so loudly.
Except
On a Hermit’s Shore,
Unerring certainty separates from resentful beliefs,
and frightening thoughts flee,
So I'm able to centralize the inner voice significantly.
My life's work has been hindered for a considerable amount of time,
adhering to cultural norms hinders me
from attempting such a feat.
There is no need or desire for fleeting friends' voices or laughter’s tease.
It is in this charming idiosyncrasy
that one roams with ease.
Each moment is taken in with a gentle sigh,
I can...