The Introvert's Respite

The floating moment of quiet when you drive under an overpass in the rain;

A small, fleeting feeling of safety, not being ambushed.

The moment of silence when in an ocean you are swept under a wave;

The private feeling as it tumbles your body about.

The stillness, coasting along the droning bottom of the community pool;

Your brief disappearance into an underwater world.

To be the first to step into the dawn of a fresh snowfall that silences the world;

The rest of the neighbors still retreating in warm beds.

To find the restroom at a loud party, ears ringing;

The pumping base now blissfully in the background.

To look in the mirror after the first day of your new job;

The relief to know you are still you, unchanged.

To see the world in 20/20,

A private feeling of perceiving more than meets the eye.

To find more; To delight

In the silhouette of a bare tree because its stretch against the sky is interesting,

In cold winter rain because it is part of nature,

And in dusty dirt paths because they are going somewhere.

To take comfort in what you know,

Even if what you know is bad.

You swim in your thoughts that sprout from your brain like music.

You sit and observe in a sure feeling of exclusivity.

And you wonder

If anyone else sees the world as quietly, as still, as soundly, as detailed as you do.

Of course some do.

That is the eccentricity of an introvert.