whenever the mind whispers a mysterious tale
of waves in sunlight and oceans in lakes
whenever a burst of yellow curtains the hills
onto the warmth of the blue lights of rain
this is when a voice springs out from nothingness;
a beautiful silence; an unbroken truth
gives a purpose to life's existence
and this is when I begin to question myself
"What exactly is this existence?"
Is is the way nature constantly fills up while
I admire the growth from my loop hole of emptiness?
Or is it the manner in which I am able to foresee
all of existence yet do nothing but curl up in
a blanket of emptiness?
do I have a role to play to uplift this existence or
will I fade into nothingness?
into emptiness?
I voyaged on an endless search of fruitfulness until I saw
that whenever I picture waves in sunlight and oceans in lakes
I can add a world without a sky or any land to step,
olive green sunsets are a blessing for the hills
with the tiny drops of my minute-made purple rain
I've understood, this emptiness with this nothingness
are mine to take
they add up to make my imagination that is mine to make
This emptiness with this nothingness gives the true meaning of my existence.