Tangible Nothingness

A certain smell so fleeting

That drifts upon the wind,

Dissipates, no sign no trace

Save the mark upon the mind.

The spark of memory,

That familiar breeze

That brushes by and flees,

A longing of the inner heart,

Just distant buzzing bees.

~

A sight that warms, like fire

In a hearth mid winter’s reign,

A leaping in the soul that draws

The blood within the veins.

A memory, like whispers

Humming through the ground,

Vibrates through the heart and mind

A stirring, swirling sound.

~

That smell, sight, sound-

Tangible nothingness,

A trigger and a string

That pulls the heart

Along the trail,

Trying to find…something.

~

No person, thing

Or place so fair,

No memory bright or dim,

No joyful laugh, no tear stained past

The scope contain within.

Tis far more, a greater sphere

Beyond the finite thought,

To capture such a longing

For which no words have caught.

It rests within each human soul,

Restless, tame, or bound.

A fragment of eternity,

A precious treasure found.

Within each soul, this piece resides.

In some, perhaps

Just hope.

But there it lies, in peace recites

A yearning for its home.