Nothingness

“Is it possible that existence is our exile and nothingness our home?” ~ Emil M. Cioran

I remember being a little girl
in a big old house on an old brick street.
Stained glass sunlight was like enchanted fire
spreading across the floor to touch my feet.

I felt so small in echoes of the past.
The Victorian was settled with dust;
and rooms held secrets for children to find,
while the garden gate was flaking with rust.

The rooms were immense with windows too tall,
so many rooms in which sisters could play;
but it was too much and we grew apart.
We could not polish what always would stay.

I stood alone with my toes in the dirt
in a sea of green where grasses grew tall
and sipped its sweetness, wanting more of it,
needing the harvest of nothingness - all.

No hands farmed the land nor seeded the soil.
It was a gathering of earth and sky
that gathered in me the resolve to be
as blossoms of dew in the moon’s pale eye.

I wrapped myself in the blanket of night.
I closed my eyes to immerse in the sound
inhaling the damp of nothing and none
feeling as one with the sky and the ground.

I wonder at how this paper could be
a sacred psalm in the palm of my hand
when words do not rise like crows to the sky
or tides washing over the untouched sand.

I know it’s in me, the creator to be,
to script a something for others to gain,
like warmth from a fire, relief from a breeze,
or quenched petals of a rose in the rain.

A zither is plucked in back of my mind,
a spell is cast in a candle-lit room;
and little girls play, forever to stay,
with their toes in the dirt about to bloom.

Author's Note

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

even as they grow older and live apart, there will always be those memories of the old house and of the girls playing together there.
nothingness can definitely be somethingness when it comes to the closeness of family...blood ties never quit running through the veins even of separation.The picture, the poem both remind me of Vermont when i was little...running through the pastures...staying at the big old farmhouse...something about it even then...it had a soul, there were memories that weren't mine but would be in the future...special place and special times just like those depicted in this lovely write.
j.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you for the review, Jacob. I remember when we moved into the house that there was this one room that held this huge piece of furniture. I honestly don't even know what you'd call it, but it was filled to the brim with old letters and postcards and other such papers. It was a magical place for a kid, always remembered as an adult. I'm glad this poem stoked similar memories for you.

[barleygirl]

You have succeeded lavishly in plucking this memory & presenting it with a ton of fresh imagination & imagery. I love how you show instead of tell, how the nostalgic mind spits out disparate memories about a certain place -- even tho the description isn't complete, so many vivid details spin a fulsome tapestry in the reader's mind. Your rhyming & rhythm & wordplay is well-done & adds to the feelings conveyed (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Robert Trakofler]

You are not a one and done sort of writer, probably not a three or four either. The emergence of your mandate as witness of wonder sentiments statement is so filled with feel. I was never very present of mind as a child only glances dashing at the corners of my views:) I was raised in a bit of a processing fog but somehow I always wrote and sang and drummed since i was little but it wasn't till later did the mandate scream to me. I enjoy your voice and form very much and I am a rhyme junky;) lovely lines

[Kesch (Finding Julia)]

I could feel a heart and soul in this awesome write. So well written. I like the feelings that you expressed. It takes me down a dirt road that I once knew. Awesome writing here

[CD Campbell]

Great attention to detail on your meter. (As always) I do like how you posit that a well wrought poem can be like a magic spell and if we think back in history, that provably was the intention, even if the intention in this case is to keep us young at heart. I enjoyed it. CD

[lightsong]

for me, aside of the fact that Your poem is written masterfully, whether in the form, style, rhythm, rich feelings and valuable thoughts, it's cleverly done, it's where words are not words but breaths filling the air to be a part and one with the whole and oneness, yes "Nothingness" is our home, it's where the Divine is, the whole universe is, and since children are pure, they can feel and connect with it through their freedom, and all of this is wrapped so beautifully in Your latest verses.

[JR]

Repeating toes in the dirt... that is really, really well done. It ties the end of the piece the the early part, a return for the readers to the central theme of the work. This is dream-like: "I stood alone with my toes in the dirt / in a sea of green where grasses grew tall" and even though the language is simple for the reader, the image itself is complex. You did a great job of maintaining structure while also avoiding cliche. Like this one a lot.

[Kelly Scheppers]

How extraordinary those memories sound, reminding me of my own house, which remains clear to me all these years later. It amazes me what the mind preserves, especially from our youth. I love the feeling you evoke with every line, every verse that weaves its own magic. Lovely accompaniment, too!

[Chris Shaw]

A beautiful nostalgic read, in rhyme and meter. There aren't many of us left who can write this way. This poem reminded me of home and life with my two sisters and two brothers.

Chris

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you, Chris. Truly great poets have always been rare, but I think there are always a few around. What seems to be a dying art manages to bloom among the weeds. I am hopeful that humanity will always have hopeful hearts, with the eyes of a poet, to write forever. I hope. I pray.

[Karmee]

Oh My Gosh, This is just so very good, Wow, what a life here. This is just amazing, I am in awe of this write. Awesome. so full of emotions. you 're an amazing writer.