Something, Everything, Anything, Nothing March 10, 2012Posted by nrhatch in Mindfulness, Poetry, Word Play.
Too many topics
Too little time
An ever growing pile of esoteric knowledge
No matter how deep I plumb
The surface of the sea
There is always more to discern
But I do know this . . .
Always, never, and all
are best left on the cutting room floor
Tedious details bore me
I don’t care to know a lot about a little
That’s really next to nothing
Facile explanations merely skim the surface
They sound good . . .
But have no more depth than a sheet of paper
Whipping about in the wind
What say you?