My Poetry
Again, This
Aois Dana
A Bag of Spring
For A Wedding
Little Brother
Ostara - Mist and Wings
Rainy Day
Some Murdering Secret
Sun and Rain
What Comes of Wings
    I was once told that if being so picky about who I wanted to spend time with would mean that I would always be completely alone and loveless. (The person in question was very angry at the time.) I don't believe that. I think that if your friends are not the people who will stick by you and offer real, solid support to you, and who don't begrudge you time alone, then they're not friends at all.
She who is sister to Company,
But darker, so darker
She who calls the Mage, the Poet, to her side
And teaches in silence.

I hear her call in the pain of my heart
I who am Priestess to a darker Lady than I know
I who know when I see my love,
Who's heart leaps at the sight of him,
Must leave his side when she calls to me.

Solitude, my Lady
The ring on my finger marks me for you
I put it there when I took your first gift
I see both black and white as grey,
Lighter and Darker but never pure.

Such is the Priestess.
Never easy, I would not give it up
It is what I am, not who,
And only another touched by her
Knows why I seek the pain that is quiet.

There is bitterness,
But there is calmness, and center
Only when I am alone do I know myself
In company, I am more than myself
I shift to make them easier.

Solitude at my center
I was told that the calm would only keep me alone
I am alone, in company,
And alone, I have the company of the world,
With me, I am more than one.

I love.
Alone, I still love,
Even when I am alone, I love.
In company, I am more than whole,
I am solitude by choice, and I am whole.

© Anne Cross, 1996

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Created: November 29, 1996
Last updated: December 17, 1998