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Poem
There is no nothing
for what we call nothing
which is really space
is definately something
emptiness void abyss
all something like glass
from lights point of view
as we are as light to space
we offer eachother no resistance
and yet are as real as eachother
transparent matter to light is space
and perhaps as light is refracted
bent and reflected through glass
and transparent crystal
perhaps so too time, which is
nothing more than the motion of
matter through space also unknown
to our perspective, is also reflected, bent
and reflected on surfaces of spacial
objects creating multiple and changing
dimensions and timelines just beyond our grasp and view

and matter, is but tight loops
of energy caught in the mass of
thier own spin, and energy
but a wave and a wave
tantamaount to a sound
and what if that sound be the voice of God?
and we say but the vibration
is the matter and the void
and yet originated beyond either
and what be beyond that? be that God?
or is there nothing beyond nothing?
no nothing, an infinite soup
of voids as resistance free solids
housing thier own equivacle energy and matter
or something completely as of yet unseen
be there as yet some undiscovered medium, energy or substance
beyond in perceptive ability all
these forementioned things, be that
unknown, the foundation of the known
and so unknown revealed and known 
knows and reveals new, or at least
unnoticed unknown without limit, eternal
forever and always every and all things
or be all these things God
or consciousness assuming different
roles in a great universal play
like children playing
and do children not play in
joy and love
so are we not all love and joy?
endlessly playing together
playing out all possible possibilities
presently, now, right now,
now here, right here, nowhere, here now
loves endless imagination pictured
be it possible that all
existance exist within the
imagination of consciousness
of life itself, of all life
each and every no matter what and where
and what if all these forementioned things be alive
and conscious on some level
so what then
be life a dream
of existance or a choice
whats next?
its all immaginary lines, remove
them and all life becomes as
vital to one as ones favourite limb
ergo all existance or at
leastthe knowing of its existance
is a perfect circle the circle
of life thats it.
Endless imagination of the heart in love
and what then of eternal serenely tranquil peace, 
and what is peace but a sense of space
some sort of oblique void
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