nothing

I hear your words

and I feel the sorrow,

if I could cease to exist

as me,

to become one

with the force of life,

to be in the wind,

in the trees,

a gently swaying

beam of sunlight,

a part

of everything

and everyone,

while being nothing

or no one,

a cold crystal snowflake,

a flicker in a campfire’s yellow light,

a sound

from the throat

of a singing bird’s song,

the love

between a man

and woman,

the cry

of a newborn baby;

nothing.

.

.