On Empty


I look at my emptiness
And I see my full-up-ness
Full of debris
Broken pieces
Leftovers of clashes
Of lost connections
Of misunderstandings
And understandings made sparkling clear

How do I sort it all out
Make a path, even, through it all

There are no trash bags for the soul
And while the soul is made up of the dirt of our lives
Too much refuse is still just that
Too much

We work on disciplines so that we may be cleansed
But are we aware that in order to be emptied
We have to let go
Say good-bye
Don’t look back

Another life
Another cupboard
In the attic
To clear out

Another person’s memories
That were mine
Once upon a time

Are they kept so that one day I can make a quilt of them
To wrap myself in
Changing the shards into strips of softness
That I can rest my head on

It is my structure, after all
Each a step that I took
Mostly falling afterward
But a step nonetheless
On my path

Pebbles picked up
And stowed away
Or crammed into the treads of my shoes
Felt only in the way each one changes my balance

So perhaps the fullness creates an emptiness
An arch through which I can go
Pieced together
On which flowers can spread their life
And color

What would we be without these pieces
Are we the sum of our parts
And are the parts this refuse
This left-over-ness
That I see

Coming back together
A mosaic of my life
My steps
Now adornment
That gives me the space to be empty

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