Abstractions

Beginning.

Cascading letters,

Cursive words talk

Loudly, all heard is silent.

Silence a value with no placement,

Much like the number zero.

It is a mirage for what seems to be,

Nothing, is actually something.

So how does one place value

On things that are not concrete?

How do abstract thoughts trickle down

Deep in consciousness?

How do we know what is solid and what is gas?

We are all molecular atoms.

We are (in)animate objects.

Connected from a genetic theory

Of tiny vibrating spheres.

To relate oneself to zero,

Could be as rewarding as

Being rated a ten.

Whimsical nothings, we are.

Empty air overflows and spills

On what appears to be

A desolate plane.

Perhaps it is what

We cannot sense

That makes life

A never ending

Reality.