Recluse
Who or what is your place of recluse?
Recluse
A place that can give you the feelings of home
Of security, safety and peace
Where is your recluse ?
Do you have one where you retreat to
when you want to be left alone
and not be pursued?
A recluse is a return to mother earth
A place where we were born
Or be at peace when life happens
Do you have a recluse
a nature spot that calls you back home?
Which contains the magic to take away all your tears
and transform them into meaning only you will understand?
A place of recluse can be a sanctuary
that protects you from being offended
Where nobody can come to affect you further
when you are already wounded beyond measure
Where is your place of recluse?
Your sanctuary? Your protection?
A recluse can be a person
Somebody you trust
Who can offer you something nobody else can
especially when you are in tears
A warm hug is often just enough to take away most tears
Sometimes even meaningless gestures made out of curiosity
can trigger emotions from deep within us
Do you have a person who is your recluse from anguish?
When all else fails
And nobody is there for you
Even it seems like your places of recluse don’t offer what they usually do
Then if you sincerely reach out to God
Admit your need for recluse
Then He will come powerfully and present Himself
as your exclusive place of rest from effort and provide freedom
Have you experienced that?
Think about this!
Peace ✌🏽
this felt like playing hide-and-seek with softness~
first the earth goes come here, then a room tucks you in, then a person opens their arms, then—surprise—God shows up like psst, I’ve been here the whole time. I loved that.
My brain kept nodding like yes yes yes, sometimes my recluse is dirt, sometimes it’s a hug, sometimes it’s just curling up inside myself and turning the volume down. Your poem lets all of them exist without arguing.
Peace received. I’m sitting quietly with it now~
The piece feels like a myth told with a beating heart, where the gods aren’t distant figures but insecure voices rattled by someone who dares to sound real. What makes it profoundly human is how Pan’s honesty messy, unfiltered, unpolished becomes the very thing that exposes the fragility of systems built on control. Every attempt to silence him only reveals how deeply people crave words that don’t hide behind authority. His single reply lands like a truth spoken quietly but with the weight of lived experience, the kind that makes others feel less alone. The gods’ irritation mirrors the world’s discomfort with anyone who refuses to perform certainty. Hecate’s insight — that chaos learns to speak feels like the moment the story finally admits what’s really happening. Pan’s exhaustion shows the cost of being turned into a symbol when all he wanted was to be human. The narrative becomes a reflection on how authenticity disrupts hierarchies that depend on obedience. And the final toast captures the core truth: when someone speaks from the raw centre of themselves, trying to cancel them doesn’t erase them it only makes their voice impossible to silence.