embracing emptiness

I like the feel 

of all the empty houses on the street 

during a rainy weekday morning. 

 The homes are like minds; 

when the people are gone, 

and all the movement inside stops or slows, 

it becomes peaceful, 

tranquil, 

quiet.  

The people have all gone 

in their noisy cars 

off to some other place. 

Yet, in their absence, 

something of a person’s essence remains behind in a home. 

Something of my mind remains in my head 

when I meditate and send my spirit off 

in some mantra vehicle 

to some other place. 

In this way, empty homes are meditating, 

considering the possibilities of coming alive again 

with some new spirit inside.  

During this quiet, private space, 

where I am inside my home, 

and not inside my head, 

I can hear the empty echos of quiet halls, 

tiny paws of sleeping companion animals scuffling across the floor, 

the amorous calls of a pair of birds. 

Moving outward, 

my spirit expands beyond these four walls 

and I envelop all the emptiness I can find, 

in every house, 

and feel the temporary quality of it,

 knowing that in a matter of hours, 

all this quiet turns into a flurry of 

movement, 

consumption, 

humanity. 

 I breathe in that peace, 

 I breathe in that chaos, 

and I take peace and chaos 

out the door with me, 

my mind, my body and move 

in some other place.