Certain things just do delight, and
I have studied this, carefully, and
with a full regard for the retelling.
It has to sound like truth - like
a ruby setting, in a pile of grass;
hard to say how nice. When nihilists
build bridges - I have found - there
is nothing in between that's bridged,
and neither do the two sides ever rightly
meet. Something is always off a few feet.
The joining is missing, the 'junction don't
junct,' as it were. I've noticed this is not
(always) because of bad intention, just
more sometimes bad design or engineering.
Their real feat is to be never talking of it.
'Problem? No, we have none.' They say.
While people are still rolling off the edge.
I've come to this from varied angles: For
some sum of years I believed in nothing
myself, and threw that attitude around,
wherever it was I went. Like marrying a
ghost and looking under the covers (finally)
on the wedding night and finding nothing's
there I took my lesson book and just walked
home. Those birds and butterflies were still
ringing around, and I heard their sound.
Funny it is, in a nihilisitc manner, how one
of them is noisy (the birds, of course), and
the other never makes a sound to be heard
at all. The butterflies, that is, even when
six or seven strong. I tried to listen, but
knew I was wrong. In a nihilistic sense,
that too is nothing; yet, even the silence
is 'something' - or I guess it can be made
to be, or so construed. On the other side,
if I could just get across that bridge.