A Load Of Nothing Poem by Keith Shorrocks Johnson

This old wheel of time
This old wheel of suffering
Keeps on turning
The is-ness and the my-ness.

Outside the many forms
The multitudinous things
That make ex-is-tence
As the rubber hits the road.

Inside the many feelings
The cacophony of thoughts
That make ins-is-tence
As the squeaky wheel grates the axle.

This old log of wood
This old bag of skin
An empty noggin
Carted off to kingdom come?

It is not near
It is not far
Neither broad nor narrow
The road unfolds as it may.

Take comfort
This is the way it should be
At the pivot of things
Joy has spoken - a load of nothing.