The Isolate Tower

Obviously prompted by the lock downs in place, but looking at a particular kind of solitude as well, and with a small nod to Ursula Le Guin and Theresa of Avila, today's poem explores isolation. There is poetic licence here too: I am not as isolated as the protagonist of the poem - that is an exploration of the imagination.

The Isolate Tower

Alone, alone, and no one here:
All alone through time of fear;
And as the plague rages outside,
Alone, inside, it is time to hide;
The sun is shining upon the land,
But days are trickling by like sand;
And yet the words still coming out,
As if there’s time for final shout;
A secure tower of words, turrets tall,
But a lightning stricken tower fall,
As in the cards, turned one by one,
As clouds across blot out the sun;
And night is falling, ending day,
I want to speak, but cannot say
What must be said, wherein I dwell,
For in isolation, I find my hell:
Devoid of hug, of touch, of feel,
A closed door, with waxen seal;
And yet I hear the distant cry,
The seagull wheeling in the sky,
And I write down the words again,
As joy returns with quiet amen.