The Nothing in You
Like a blank sheet of paper
I am nothing, but in me is everything
that exists.
I am innocence.
Because I am everything,
Your little You makes me a something—
Many somethings—
To fill the nothing
And everything You fear.
Like the sheet of paper,
Upon me you write your
words
And draw your pictures.
You create your document
Of life
and me.
You believe your document—
It must be true,
Says your little You,
Because the words and
pictures are there—
They speak to You;
You speak to them;
They prove you’ve had
A Past.
They calm your fear and
assure
That you will have
A future.
But I am innocent;
I am nothing—
I am everything, but not
something.
You live all that you
write—
Over and
over and over.
You keep open the pages you
like the least
And call it suffering.
I am freedom,
But you like your document.
You look for freedom, always
doing something:
Blaming images of mother or
father,
Your neighbor, your health;
Of politicians, a culture,
Their words, their
pictures,
Their
actions, their wealth.
You need only do nothing;
just nothing.
Your little You must always do something—
Always
something.
You write words that say others
Can give you relief;
You keep your document
alive
As your therapist or priest
helps you crawl
Through
every picture, word, and emotion.
Who’s to blame?
Get it out!
Draw another picture,
Soothe that anxious
flutter,
Create another life.
Perhaps you begin to look
for me.
A new page is opened
To fill
with more words, new pictures.
In my name a new document
is made.
Your You
fills your space with Buddhas or crosses,
With Dharmas or Bibles, prayer beads or tallits.
Your world must know
Of your spiritual revival:
You drink tea and do yoga,
Do prayers or prostrations,
Go to retreats or revivals.
You believe your teacher or
priest has something you don’t—
You call it auras or
presence
And the new You strives
For these idyllic states
That you
have imaged and projected.
You create a tail to chase
That cannot be caught—
It keeps you busy and
something new to believe in
To cover
up the old.
But I am innocent;
I am nothing—
I am everything, but not
something.
Let go.
Let it all go:
Your document—the words,
the pictures—
Let it die. Let it all die
So you can live.
BBP214
Free verse