Nothing Has Meaning Poem by Savva Emanon

Nothing holds meaning, not fixed, not confined,
Till shaped by the hands of your own quiet mind.
The world is but canvas, uncoloured, undone,
Awaiting the brushstroke of what you make one.

A glance may be cold, or simply unsure,
A silence may wound, or offer a cure.
What feels like an ending, heavy and stark,
May only be dawn wearing shadows of dark.

We borrow old stories, worn thin at the seams,
Handed down softly as truths, not as dreams.
"This pain is a failure, this loss is defeat, "
Yet none of these meanings are ever complete.

For meaning is fluid, it bends and it flows,
It softens the edges of all that we know.
What once felt like breaking may quietly reveal
A path into wholeness, a deeper way to feel.

So pause in the moment when tension takes hold,
When thoughts start to harden, determined and bold.
Return to the whisper, so simple, so true,
No meaning exists but the one given by you.

Say it in stillness, let certainty cease,
Let breath be your anchor, your doorway to peace.
For between what is happening and what you decide,
Is a vast open freedom where you can reside.