One Single Impression: Lonely

light gazebo


The outlier
Descendant of

All one:

From many, the singular,
Whole, complete,


So how did it come to this
Over time?
What change
Turned everything

Into almost nothing--

In fact, one--

Lost and looking out
Reaching for the rest of its story?

How did I forget you?
How did you forget me?

Why do we refuse to open our eyes
Why do we agree to this solitude?

You touched me once.
Touch me again.

Turn on the light and let me find you.

We are all one.

Note: Thinking on some Hemingway I have read recently...and thinking of how language can turn itself inside out sometimes. In this case the movement from all one to lonely is revealing, so plain in its obvious truth. The word startled me this week. This is a poem about language. Love is something else.

One Single Impression


  1. Yes how? and why?

    Oh but to wait for him to come to you seems an eternity! and to find him?

    this is such a lonely yearning Sandy!

    loved your sad thoughts!

  2. We have to reach out to others....... Loneliness is often in our own hands. Of course sometimes we can't do anything about it at all.
    Being alone doesn't always mean loneliness. It can be a state of mind. I have felt lonely in a crowd sometimes.
    Maggie X

    Nuts in May

  3. Dear Sandy When I think of alone, I remember it is all one. If you find you have time to yourself, fill it as you like, because "life" has a way of filling every moment, with other things. Your dark pic, reminds me that the light is the brightest in the dark. Very beautiful!

  4. I saw something deeper in this poem. My interpretation is the yearning for the Devine, the oneness yet he singular we think we are. And how we yearn to have the light turned on.

    I guess that's poetry for ya. We all see what makes sense to us.

    This was a good one.

  5. I see the poem as a yearning for the depth of connection, either human or spiritual. Nicely done, Sandy!

    A different interpretation of isolation and lonelyness is in the work of American painter Edward Hopper. I've featured his work at The Pagan Sphinx this week.


  6. Yes . We can be surrounded by people and yet feel so lonely when no one appreciates or takes interest except in their own lives.
    So like the picture your are there, but in the dark. so its like you are not

  7. Brought back memories of friends I had in my life and lost touch with. . . just beautiful!

    I also left a comment on your blessings post which I truly enjoyed!

  8. Carved in the stone of my agreement!

    Warm Aloha from Waikiki

    Comfort Spiral

  9. This captures that horrible feeling of being alone while sitting right beside someone.

  10. I really like these thoughts and the way you've expressed them. I also like your photo for this post.

  11. Sometimes our loneliest hours can be spent in the company of others. What a sad, touching work this is Sandy. At the same time, redemptive.

    Hugs my friend, G :<)

  12. The forgetting permits changes.

    Touching again will not restore the love.

    Only the pain.

    There's been enough of that.

  13. your words certainly capture a feeling and move into space...alone and lonely.

  14. Yes, one can see the poem isn't about love...and the startling movement from all-one to lonely -- seems not just about the word....

    Good poem, Sandy :)


  15. Very nice work, Sandy, and so true. I think loneliness is an element of everyone's life.

  16. I love the image, as it is so fitting the words.
    Have a lovely Sunday,

  17. Great words, and you've certainly nailed language in your note.

  18. A sad and soulful piece!! And yes, I agree, we can be lonely in a crowd. That is the most distressing state of being there is!
    Wonderful piece!

  19. Wonderful take on the prompt, expressed so well! =)


  20. ending nice1

  21. It is a language of love. Isn't it?

  22. Hemingway's use of language is such an inspiration ... he was a master of economy and careful crafting. Wonderful poem.

  23. Love your thoughts! Gentle and sensitive! Especially loved:

    "You touched me once.
    Touch me again."

    It can be sadly possible to feel lonely in company! There can be the distance of souls!

  24. We are all alone together...what a beautiful poem.

  25. Anonymous6:30 PM

    A joy for the sense of thought, being able and allowed to read what you greatly did write.

    Please have a wonderful new week.

    daily athens

  26. You touched me once.
    Touch me again."

    Beautiful Sandy.. as usual I am speechless for the intensity of the thought..

  27. I come to and turn in this awareness sometimes..find my answers when I look closely into words...either in re-checking their meanings, or watching them turn from one into your alone and all one...and always and all ways and words like listen that liquidly becomes silent...
    Often when I write, it is to discover that words I have repeating in my head, when I write them down in my handwriting the lesson appears as they look like another hand writing turns involvement into in-value-ment for example...
    yes I love the exploration here of how words can shape separate and even limit our perceptions and yet also are wonderfully the hiding place of our divine understanding too...whether that is gifted to us from outside or inescapable because the truth is always present in everything we create.
    for such lovely comtemplation today:D
    Thank you

  28. I read a deep yearning in this poem. I loved the exploration of "alone" as a word. Nicely written.

  29. I love how you took the word and its meaning and related it poetically while referencing something else- brilliant! Hope you are enjoying your autumn!

  30. I love the way you turned the words and thoughts inside out and wrote them to resonate within. Beautiful!

  31. So how did it come to this? Why do we agree on this solitude?

    The heart of loneliness maybe lies in our shared illusion of separation. To move from the perception of being discrete, static, independent to an experience of interconnection, mutability, contingency. Could be a life’s journey.

    Beautiful poem. Love how you conjured millennial drift through word play.


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