This poetry thing always seems like a good idea and then I get started or stuck as the case may be. So I present to you this silly bit…
Something from Nothing?
I sit quietly; the screen is bare,
No thought to catch, no spark to share.
The world outside, it spins and glows
But here I am, and nothing shows.
No fleeting dream, no whispered thought,
Just empty space where words are sought.
The silence wraps its gentle shroud,
nary a thought in my mind but clouds.
I search for the muse, but none appears,
no inspiration to loose the gears.
The keys are quiet, the page is clean,
an empty space where none have been.
Perhaps, in nothing, something’s found—
In absence, silence does resound.
So here I write, without a theme,
A poem born from quiet's dream.