The Awareness of the Empty
The arriving dawn of that morning,
The departing dusk of that evening.
We the emptiness, within the empty,
Still, tranquil, calm and cellularly aware.
Aware of the silence resonating within
The cluttered echoes of the chore
That has comes to pass as life and living.
Aware of the frightening contentment
Of no possessions or chases after them.
Aware of the rarefied viscosity of the air
Which we breathe in absence of rushes.
Aware and afraid of the atomic vastness
Of this emptiness and our inconsequence.
Aware truly of beginnings and culminations
And the continuity of rebeginnings of culminations.
Aware of a universe which awaits in a blink
And cycles through existence and illusionÂ
With every deep breath and sighing exhale.
Aware of the only permanence of impermanence
And the futility of craving what is mere material.
Aware of the simple complexities of our responsibility
Towards the life accorded to us by the cosmos.
Aware of the elusive line which tries to separate
What it is to be happy and what it is to be content.
Aware of everything being stardust of some death
And destined to be stardust again for a nebulous birth.
But aware most acutely of you, sharing this emptiness
And realizing life is meant to flourish in dualities.
Aware that as we strive for our duality to unite,
Our identities to fuse distinctly as a singularity,
We are entwining into each other as the warp and weft
Of time, weaving our very own nucleic emptiness.
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