This is the day emerging
without any sort of plan
a day to make acquaintance again
with a self you’d almost forgotten
the self you once knew well
that’s been covered by the ruckus
of doing
This is the day drifting
to the gentle current of stillness
where you hear the solo birdsong
backed by a rising wind-rush
where you untangle the threads of worry
and give your self the present
of solitude
Wind Rush 
Lovely, LuAnne. I especially like the sound and image of “untangle the threads of worry”. What a wonderful use of solitude.
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“the ruckus of doing — the present of solitude…” I was caught by the word “present” there. To let go of everything else for awhile and be present… That IS a gift. Well said, LuAnne.
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Thank you for your kind words. I originally had written “gift” o solitude, but “present” had two meaning and that made me smile. So glad that that word choice resonated with you. 🙂
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