Longing is something that always awakens a waiting, a presence of someone who is there, even if they're not. Longing is not an absence, it's a being forever
Interesting observation, Rolando, to feel presence in absence, sort of like feeling that being ignored by someone is their subtle way of acknowledging you.
That's right, Paul. If someone ignores you, it's actually because there’s still a connection between the two — like an invisible web that both separates and unites at the same time, a kind of 'knot' that exists even in the absence of 'us'. These processes are fascinating.
You will be waiting, but are you saying that you know her well enough to know that she won't come, even though she might might make some attempt to do so?
I like that image of the stone skimming across the water never reaching the shore.
Yes, Stan, I think there is a kind of hopelessness being expressed here, the idea that the one for whom the speaker waits is, perhaps, is only capable of only half-measures, if even that.
Thank you for sharing this, @rena 🌻🌻
Thanks to @Deni for sharing this
My thanks to @Diane’s Blue Forum for sharing this 💙💙
Good morning, @Portia, and thanks for the restack
Good late afternoon, Paul, my pleasure!
Well, it’s still midsummer day isn’t it?
It is!
Longing is something that always awakens a waiting, a presence of someone who is there, even if they're not. Longing is not an absence, it's a being forever
Interesting observation, Rolando, to feel presence in absence, sort of like feeling that being ignored by someone is their subtle way of acknowledging you.
That's right, Paul. If someone ignores you, it's actually because there’s still a connection between the two — like an invisible web that both separates and unites at the same time, a kind of 'knot' that exists even in the absence of 'us'. These processes are fascinating.
You will be waiting, but are you saying that you know her well enough to know that she won't come, even though she might might make some attempt to do so?
I like that image of the stone skimming across the water never reaching the shore.
I suspect the speaker has spoken these words more than once, Martin. I think it’s a kind of uttered hope that has a history of not panning out.
Ah, thanks to that, Paul. That makes perfect sense.
Heart wrenching. It seems to me that the person longing will never give up hope completely.
short and sweet, to the point. hopeful, yet grounded.
Thank you, Sam.
🩵
Good morning, Grace, and thank you 🩵🩵
Have a good day, Paul. 🩵
Nice. Real nice
Good Friday, Jonathan, and thanks for reading and commenting.
Happy midsummer to you Paul :) It’s the longest day here and we’re all revelling in the light :)
Thank you, Jonathan, and a happy midsummer to you, as well!
Back to the scene of the crime where your heart was stolen, all the time realizing you’re in love with someone not as committed as you!
Yes, Stan, I think there is a kind of hopelessness being expressed here, the idea that the one for whom the speaker waits is, perhaps, is only capable of only half-measures, if even that.
Thanks I get that feeling and I think that is what poetry is supposed to do, give you feelings.
Awww
The lightness of a skip stone across the summer surface slips away on her own without a trace to enter a world without wait.
Thank you, Richard!
You caught me as darkness surrounded me with a cloak. Looks like we were awake at same time wondering.
Lately, every waking hour is spent wondering, Richard.
Oh yesPaul the waiting for love the waiting so there thank you blessing
You packed a lot in this...like peeling an onion, Paul. Kudos!
Thank you, Manuel
Short and powerful. One single image.