An Introvert Walks on the Beach

You likely would have been happy as a hermit.
Being alone has more than charm,
It energizes you. Focuses you. You have room to breathe
deeply. Slowly. You can live in my dreams.

You likely would have been happy as a hermit.
No one to answer to. No responsibilities.
No accountability. Always relaxed. Yes,
it would have suited me well.

You likely would have been happy as a hermit.
The few periods of my life alone were never lonely.
There was nothing missing. Not that y felt anyway.
A character flaw perhaps. Something missing.

You likely would have been happy as a hermit.
Not a shambling, dirty, unkempt old man
mumbling to himself in some hut in the woods.
No. That’s the odd part. I would want a home.

A house. Something warm in the dark, cold night,
a welcoming haven for the odd stranger
with a light in the window and a fireplace for warmth.
A safe place. For a while.

Nothing stays. Nothing save God, which is why
the slow breaths are so important.
You are what you fill yourself with
and as peaceful as the void may be,

you were not made for it.
You were made for all those things
you need escape from now and again.
An odd paradox you long ago gave up
trying to understand.

You would have been happy as a hermit.
but happier still when it was a part time gig,
Some things you don’t explain.
You just live.

About this poem

I am introvert. Sort of.

The photograph is an old rescue station near the end of Cape Cod. Today the picture spawned the poem, not the other way around.

Be well. Travel wisely,

Tom