Out Of Emptiness Poem by Patti Masterman
Out Of Emptiness
Everything comes out of emptiness
Arriving early, arriving late
Empty coffers empty eyes
Empty smiles and empty cries
Things want to fill themselves with you
Things you say, things you do
Thoughts you think nobody knows
As all upon your face, they grow
In struggling sun, the dying things
Arriving empty, too late to run
Sterile thoughts, too shallow to live
In lives to shallowness, we give
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4/19/2024 3:32:49 PM # 1.0.0.1119
This one makes me think; is this why we write?