She left it all behind! Left that crazy mixed up world; volatile and unpredictable,
One without empathy, a sense of community, or the continuation of a helping hand,
Where love breaks, friendships betray, and family abuses.
Why! Because she found it claustrophobic, fake and incredibly painful.
****
Instead, she followed her dreams, rode off into the sunset; destination lost,
Free to exist, free to breathe, free to whisper her name to the heavens; to be safeguarded,
She discarded most of societal rules, froze the time on her inner clock,
And sailed the winds to land in the unknown.
****
Released the expectations loaded upon her so many years ago,
Tied up the past, burnt the deadwood and enough bridges to boot,
Unchained her heart to learn to love once again — maybe some day,
Who cares? Most won’t even realise she’s gone!
****
She smiles more, wandering the dirt tracks, scaling the rocky outcrops,
Jumping fence-lines and making a home with the animals,
Communes with the stars and sings with the dancing flames,
Sleeping the dreams of the eternal, soundly and deep.
****
She abandoned technology, unconnected from the future,
Allowed her screens to freeze, phone numbers deleted,
Keyboard destroyed, headset severed, and social media unplugged,
Then quietly soaked in the relief, the peace, the freedom.
****
Solitary, at one with her new surroundings, the quietude her new song,
The noise a chorus of nature, a tune as old as the stars,
The night sky picture perfect; a feast for her eyes,
And she contemplates the underlying magic to it all.
****
As she left, she whispered her instructions to the moon,
Left there to be passed on to any that has a need of her or her whereabouts,
Moving forward they are to wander the shoreline or roam the rainforest,
And gift the stars her name. Only then can she be found!
About the Creator
Colleen Millsteed
My first love is poetry — it’s like a desperate need to write, to free up space in my mind, to escape the constant noise in my head. Most of the time the poems write themselves — I’m just the conduit holding the metaphorical pen.
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Comments (3)
This is beautiful and so freeing. I especially love the last stanza.
Breaking free from society’s chaos—what a power move! She ditched the fake, embraced the wild, and found peace under the stars. A rebel’s guide to unplugging and thriving. The moon knows her secret address—how poetic is that?
I wish I could ride to the sunset. Love reading your story 🏆✍️