There is another Loneliness
That many die without –
Not want of friend occasions it
Or circumstance of Lot
But nature, sometimes, sometimes thought
And whoso it befalls
Is richer than could be revealed
By mortal numeral –
Description,
This is about being perfectly contented within yourself. When I am completely emersed in my work, lost within line and color, this is exactly how I feel, and I imagine how Emily Dickinson felt when lost within her perfect wording of this poem.
