I was born alone

Are all scribblings by me veiled attempts to find another soul that will walk by me for a while at least. Am I in denial and hiding the fact that being single hurts me. But I enjoy the freedom of it and am happy about it. The deers dance, rabbits rumble and run, and even snakes shed skin to become new inspired and happy about my enjoying alone. Freedom is a decree closest to my heart and all my married friends envy me and not the other way round. Yet the soul by its very nature seeks another soul, a soulmate. Why one soul? Being single I can be a collector of souls, a relation weak perhaps but would suffice.

I was born alone but won’t end that way,

and alone with helping minds was this magical wordy fortress built,

not kids, but it will be my legacy that lasts.