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I couldn't even think of a dream that meant anything anymore.

None of anything matters.

Nothing cares...

Not bliss, not Love.

Just me, full of all and empty.

Silent and un-moved.

I love poetry, perhaps even more now that I don't seem to need it. This short poem came to me recently out of the blue, while on one of the many walks Bella (my dog friend) and I take through the woods here in Flagstaff. It is always a great time and place for me to stop and free-write - a practice that my creative writing class's encourage. As the words began to appear in my journal, I was astonished by the idea that "None of anything matters". My memory seemed to be saying to me that this was heresy, and yet somehow I knew that it wasn't. It wasn't at all like feeling depressed or neurotic and trying to justify my miserable existence. I knew that feeling well. This was different. It was close, and it always was, and is. It was real, and it was me, and I was starting to notice it more and more - not because I had made contact with anything, but because something had taken leave.

I used to always wonder when I would finally "BE THERE!" Well, I think I might have finally arrived… Here I am - and I don't have to believe it! And neither does anyone else for their part. Look and see for yourself.

Best

Mike