WHEN I hear somebody complain of being
lonely
or, in
American, lonesome
I
really wonder and wonder what they mean.
Do they mean they are a great deal alone?
But what is lovelier than to be alone?
escaping the petrol fumes of
human conversation
and the exhaust-smell of people
and be alone!
Be alone, and feel the trees silently
growing.
Be alone,
and see the moonlight outside, white and busy and
silent.
Be quite
alone, and feel the living cosmos softly rocking
soothing and restoring and
healing.
Soothed,
restored and healed
when I am alone with the silent great cosmos
and there is no grating of
people with their presences gnawing
at the stillness of the air.