Somewhere There is Nothing

Somewhere There Is Nothing

Somewhere there is nothing at all,

No edge to reach, no sound to hear,

I try to picture what that is,

While standing still beside the sink.

Not like a room with empty walls,

Not like a street at break of dawn,

But something wider than all that,

Without a shape to hold it in.

Clouds drift slowly overhead,

Not asking where they have to be,

They move as if they understand,

And never stop to say a word.

A cup sits chipped along the rim,

I have kept it longer than I should,

Small things feel heavier somehow,

When thinking about nothing at all.

Would it feel calm or feel unclear,

Would you notice it at all,

Or would it pass like closing eyes,

Gone before it could be known.

The thought arrives, then slips away,

Like a train I do not board,

I watch it pass without regret,

And let it fade into the day.

Still I stand here, very real,

Hearing the kettle softly click,

Feeling the ground beneath my feet,

Knowing this moment is enough.

So maybe nothing does not call,

There is no need to chase it down,

I have this breath, this steady space,

And that is more than I need now.

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