I do believe 
that keeping candles 
lit or torches 
burning despite darkness 
shows the light 
of hope for 
others to find 
it mightn’t lead
for hope isn’t 
always a light 
that others see

I am now 
at the point 
of being a
guest in this 
my own life 
who every day
walks in and 
looks around saying 
oh my what 
a marvelous life 
and beautiful home 
you have here

I write 
of nothing 
most times 
but maybe 
my what
is missing 
will mean 
something else 
to someone 
and it
might be 
their all

Lunch of goulash 
with candle burning 
and the mountains 
reaching high for
another helping of
sky bubbles fizz
float and fly
in my glass 
the tiny tink
of fork against 
bowl and spoon 
scrape picking up 
every last bit 
like painters remove 
layers of patina 

I am now 
not a vase
nor a cistern 
pool or pond
but the presence 
that’s held within 
when it’s dry
an absolute empty 
a profound nothing 
the thing unseen 
nada and naught