Things that matter
Things that don’t
Things take space
Things that won’t
Every place
Every corner
Every shape
Every order
Has some matter
That don’t matter
The rest is harder
To see any longer
Than a glimpse
Of a fleeting
What we see
Is what we be
Are we
A mustard seed?
Are we mightier
Than a mountain?
Where’s the fountain
Of endless joy?
Not in toys
Not in things
But in that
Which dwells
In a heart
That sees
This and that
Then retires
To what matters
In a manner
Free of matter


About The Soaring Eagle

Entrepreneur, Investor, Solution Architect, Award-winning poet, Published author
This entry was posted in Nothingness, reality, The Unseen, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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