Here, in this random note's book
Just waiting to be filled
The blank stare of each
Blue'd-line vacancy
May seem daunting
But imagination is more profound
Than emptiness
Eternity inspiring
Life to its finest
Conclusions
Something born out of the infinite
Nothing
These be miracles we make
On this little potted planet
And whether or not time
Remembers any of it
Is to miss the point
The point
Being
As I said
In one way or another
The triumph of this
Something
Over nothing.
~ Laurence Overmire
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem