To The Lonely, This Holiday

A Poem on Love, Loneliness, and the Holidays

Photo by David Sonluna

The holidays, as the world has decided, are meant to be times of joy, of gathering, of love made visible through light and sound and warmth. And yet, I know—as you know—that for many, they are also times of absence, of shadows where light should be, of silences that echo louder than any song. It is for this reason that I wrote this poem, not to fill those silences entirely, but to remind people that they are seen, even in the stillness.

To those navigating grief, loneliness, or the unspoken weight of the season, I am sending you love—love in its quiet, steadfast form, the kind that asks for nothing in return. May it reach you, however it can, and remind you that you are not alone in this complicated world.

To The Lonely, This Holiday

Here, in the quiet of a room
where the walls hold their breath,
know this: you are not the only one
waiting for silence to say something back.

Outside, the lights tremble
on houses like startled prayers,
each bulb whispering: Stay.

I know the ache,
how it shapes itself into a ghost,
how it follows even the smallest flicker of joy
as if to remind you of what you don’t have.

But the body is still a choir,
even when it hums alone.
The heart, stubborn as it is,
still beats against the silence.

This year, let the cold hold you
like the first snowfall—
soft, heavy, here.
You have survived many winters.
This one will be no different.

Light a candle,
not for anyone else, but for you.
Watch the flame refuse
to stop reaching.

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