Soledad

There comes a time in every traveler’s experience when she feels not just alone, but lonely, uprooted, worn by the wind with insufficient strength to stand proud and an emptiness throbbing from the inside out. Her reasons that used to suffice to explain the many anomalies of her existence are somehow lost, no where to be found...“Why here?”, “Why this place?”, “Why do you remain here?”, "What do you want?" Moving alone, she is her own source of her answers - she has that power and responsibility - so when the source runs dry...what is there?



“…O white moon, you are lonely,
It is the same with me,
But we have the world to roam over,
Only the lonely are free.”

Sara Teasdale, from Morning Song