Every day, multiple times a day it is empty.
And, perhaps, so am I.
From this place, where does one go?
At the bottom of the inbox is an empty sink,
shining in it’s emptiness,
waiting and ready to be filled, yet again.
Why do we yearn for it so much?
Treasure at the end of the rainbow?
Seeking to unburden ourselves by the overwhelm, the noise, the requirements upon us-
And once it is processed, and moved through,
Once the excess has been put where it belongs
We find ourselves left with ourselves,
From the tower,
We gaze at the ways that one plays
with our mind
that make us blind
to the truth
that is our right
more than what we fear
to look to the Might
that is beyond the fight.
Our life flower,
The open state.
From which we create.