A Minute of Nothing

“Slow down,

my brother,”

a passerby called out,

over his shoulder.

“Why are you

always wondering

about nothing

of importance,

nothing of now,

the silence,

the stillness?”



It was then–

I felt it.


The wind swipe past

my cheek;

The bird call for the leaf,


into the nest of a cloudy-eyed



The motion of thoughts

over water,

over air,

under skin.


Within me,

the tree,

the plane,

the ant

rolling from its workhouse

to playpen,

to its bottom-of-shoe fate.


I felt the impossibility

of nothing

and the peace

of nothing

and the endlessness

of some other nothing

that is, in fact,




If only we all could slow,



June 25, 2014


4 thoughts on “A Minute of Nothing

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