Fullness It strikes me as impossible to write about emptiness. I realize that the prompt I am using here was geared toward photographers. But, even there, it is impossible to photograph emptiness. Isn’t it? Emptiness—the absence of somethingness. And no matter what space you write about, or draw about, or photograph, there is something always there. God is never absent. There is no such thing as emptiness, unless you are...
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Full Full I look at my emptiness And I see my full-up-ness Full of debris Broken pieces Remnants 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...
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