Solace doesn’t fall from the sky like manna
We must find it among weeds and stones.
For it is not just a noun, but also a verb
With an active and practical tone.
More than that. It’s a reflexive verb:
We can self-solace, be strong on our own.
Why go begging at others’ kitchens
When we can learn to cook alone?
And yes, like food, it’s better shared
But responsibility is always our own.
However sweet the comfort of others,
We can’t just collapse and lie prone,
For nothing can solace a heart dependent
On the attention it wins with its groans.
And nor can a heart begin to settle
Which is always distracted or stoned.
The very best physic for the afflicted heart
Is the thinking which we do alone.
And when we make our very own solace
Then we know we’re adults grown.
This was written for sunday scribbling’s prompt to write about solace, where you can see what other people have offered on the subject. It’s not really gramatically accurate, but I felt this was an important way to express the nature of a poem. It’s not that we can’t find solace in other people, or in things, but the way we relate to these things that gives us solace, both in the short term and in helping us to attain a longer-term healing!
