Nothing is Beautiful Friday, April 11, 2025

I was born from nothing into everything.

Eventually I will return.

I will ascend to nothing-hood and shed the everything.

Regardless, nothing brings me joy.

I love clouds.

I don’t see anything in particular about them.

Their shapes, their colors, nothing about them,

Catches my eye quite like their essence does.

I’m still not sure what that is.

Regardless, their nothing is everything I love about them.

I love rock skipping.

It is serenity punctuated by hops and jumps of a stone skimming above the heads of the fish below.

Though clear, their home is not made of glass.

They think nothing of these stones I throw.

My nothings are sweet and delightful.

Their beauty overwhelms as the clouds reflect off the rippling water in front of me.