The Honey Of Absence

The vacuum is perfect happiness.

But manifestation is fun.

Is there a problem here?

Just don't confuse the juice

with the shape of the pear.

They are one, but not the same.

A bud has no idea

What a petal is.

The apple is born

From the tears of a flower.

Seed, blossom, fruit, poop,
then another seed.

Yet there’s no “me”
threading them together,

only a wild becoming
that sings through death.

Nectar bubble in the sun.

The worm appears.

Then all that remains is a hole.

Yet we need holes to fill
with breath, with music.

Friend, through all that perishes
flows the sweetest sap.

Taste the honey of absence.

Call it sorrow.

Call it joy.

Image: Empty Circle and Bonzai Tree from Creativemotions