Empty

Empty talk. Empty trash cans.

Empty pockets seem never to be filled.

Empty stomachs, we accept as the way of the world.

Empty remembrances. Empty rituals.

War, famine, and disease empty the world of people emptied of life.

The hopeless sometimes empty their veins of blood with razor sharp intention.

Empty the bottle and be empty of consciousness.

Empty headed is a luxury for the few. The rest of us drown in worry.

Empty leaders; followers emptied of good purpose.

Empty is such a devastating word. It is the name of a devastated landscape where even death forgets itself. Not empty graves, but no graves at all. Like a billion bombs had vaporized civilization. Like books with empty pages turned to dust.

My heart is full, do you feel it? Hold me and warm yourself. Hear my breath. See my tears. Taste the salt of my heartache. Smell the flowering of my love.

Fill the empty world with our work. Fill my arms with the joy of our loving. Fill my heart with peaceful Sunday afternoons, and the fullness of family and friends, the fulfilling feeling of safety and prosperity. What is empty will be full again. In this lifetime? I don’t know.

I am full of belief. I empty my tears on hallowed ground. I empty myself of doubt.