A Sonnet of Solitude and Quiet Reflection

Upon this Easter dawn, the world is still.
We celebrate that He has conquered death.
Yet, no ecstatic joy fills up the rooms.
The quiet, heavy, settles where I will,
My family gathers elsewhere, joy apart,
Bound by their own, the hearth a gentle flame.
Yet silence presses deeply on my heart,
And solitude, unchosen, stakes its claim.
Outside, spring blooms and birdsong softly swells,
Yet here I sit, a shadow in the light.
In quiet, memories drift as time compels
A longing for the warmth withheld from sight.
So, Easter comes, profound and bittersweet,
In solitude, reflection makes me whole.


By Diane E. Dockum
©April 5, 2026