The Beauty Of Nothingness

a thought arises, seemingly
from nowhere unfolding
like a blooming flower
filling my mind with wonder
at its simplicity and beauty
and then a shift of thought
and it’s gone and I, weeping
at its loss because it
seemed so perfect, so right
and now it’s lost and I
can’t remember it other than
to say it was the answer
to every question, every
person has ever asked.

and now I am alone with my
thoughts, drab and mundane
in comparison with the
perfection of THE thought
which was in fact so right
that my mind couldn’t grasp
it and it fled, disapparated,
dissolved into nothingness
but left its essence, a pure
quintessence telling me I will
never reach this height again.

saddened by the vacancy, the
hole, the blank space left
behind, empty at knowing I
grasped it for only a second
it now seems unreal, that
maybe I didn’t really think
it at all that maybe this
feeling is something else
that maybe I’m just hungry
and I go to the fridge
for satisfaction.

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