Stronger than solitude

Bailey Collins

 

I swirl in an endless, uncontrolled dance.

I am shrouded, obscured by the tattered gray veil of solitude,

          forgotten, unwanted;

          my cries falling upon uncaring ears, deaf to my voice.

Through the mist, it comes to me:

          A hand.

          A face.

          A voice.

A stranger, unknown to me, dancing the same endless dance,

          reaching out.

I stretch out and grasp his hand.

He pulls me through, and I join him,

          whirling through the steps, hand-in-hand.

As our feet leap through air, we reach out, him with his left hand,

          I with my right.

And two more join us, stepping, springing, twirling,

          strangers to us and all,

          but known now by two.

They reach, searching,

          and our dance grows, linked together.

Ten, Twenty, One hundred.

Strength coursing through our joined hands.

Alone,

          we had nothing.

Now we have a chain, inseparable,

          woven of strangers,

          stronger than those who spread us in the misty veil.

Stronger than solitude.