Lonely steps I’m treading,
cold as hell on my way to Eden.
In Saturnian fashion, a singular journey,
orbiting my planet — like Bowie’s “Space Oddity.”
I never thought I’d be here to tell the story,
that it was always meant to be temporary.
A realization I got through Geomancy;
when I counted two tree rings till equanimity.
The impossible happened out of ‘Oneliness’,
everything back to its right meaning and pace.
Somewhere along the way, we decided lone meant lack.
Yet all we’re trying to do is close the past’s gap.
All petitioned words repeated back to me:
“Yes, you shall have that in your destiny.”
The old me dying, and a new identity,
unwavering love showing up unexpectedly.
Far above where few will go
is a blessing — not a character flaw.
Tell that to our society, Eddie:
“I hope you’re not lonely without me.”
Now I’m waiting for my lover, Jupiter,
to catch up to me all over again;
dethrone his father once retrograde ends.
“Everything gets paid for,” my dad utters.
Good deeds, initiations, deceptions —
there’s no difference in the energy; an angel’s a demon,
just on opposite sides of the karmic coin.
You shall bear witness in things to come.
Some of us learn better through pain,
And I don’t look like what I’ve been through.
Their loss, I suppose,
when it comes right back around to bite you.
The wheel never stops turning;
my head out of a spin akin
to when you walked on the scene —
innocently married to the devil, but keen.
The rope slipped out of my hands,
and I let go reluctantly, as tough as may be.
All dark, she’s no Lucifer, no bringer of light.
Am I supposed to apologize for easing your plight?
Sorry, not sorry; if they come for me,
they’ll be met with the Order’s fury.
Sure glad the robe shields against enemies.
Just know it’s too late: his soul’s freed.
I’ll fight for what’s right,
till I have nothing left
to write with but my own blood;
except the writing’s on the wall.
The caged eagle bides his time.
I’ve been there too, through and through.
It’s not long until the breakthrough,
freediving the depths of love into the Big Blue.
Nothing to lose, just net gains,
summing up manifestations overdue.
Two paths intersecting on the right hand,
on the other, reverence for a bond eluding you.
Because this love is indistinguishable
from the rest of humanity’s love quotient,
the world is begging for an inspiration current
from people like us, scaling the insurmountable.
A collective who understands
silence is altruistic — not reprimand.
Walking away into empty spaces,
so we can reveal our real faces.
Never truly alone in the wilderness,
armed with my ancestors’ strength.
Reflecting with my deepest thoughts one day,
in conversation with the HGA.
If introversion is neuroticism, as they say,
then I should be admitted
for making my mind feel as though it is populated
with wisdom the Philosopher’s Stone reflected.
My happiness doesn’t come from relationships
so much as from what they have to teach me.
Extracting the lessons is the key
and the bright side of “lonely.”
Ivy McRae, a literary-romantic fiction author, specializes in short stories, poetry, and novellas that explore love, loss, and identity. With a direct and poignant style, her works offer a fresh perspective on the complexities of human relationships. To stay updated, follow @IvyMcRae@mastodon.social on Mastodon.