Nothing At All

Just thinking of nothing, and all that leaves
between the empty spaces of being;
for it is the nothing that one believes
that oft separates knowing from seeing.

And in that great nothing exist all things,
the small and the mighty are found there;
For each ripple leaves behind fading rings
As it finds its way back to the nowhere.

There in the great void, where the world is made
and finds its definition in the space
through the sound of its soft echo in time,
I find things in sunlight formed by shade

and the endless spirit of each filled place
etched softly in an absence most sublime.

16 DEC 2002

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| December 16th, 2002 | Posted in Poems |

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