Into Nothing

I have held and honored —

set it all down —

watched as it faded back

into nothing.

I have waited

as the perfect pieces

reappeared.

And I have forgotten

and pushed —

tried to make

my own inner art

into something else —

more.

I have forgotten

the importance of the holding

and remembered

as, in my frustration,

it found its own way

and revealed itself to me

again.

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8 thoughts on “Into Nothing

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