Beautiful Nothingness
At the end of the dock
With the breeze on my face
I hear water lap on the rocks
The South Bay mirrors pinks and blues.
Ponto Lake is far from
the world’s workplace
It evokes desires of having water,
Clear and cool,
On my skin. Tenderly
Floating and diving,
I’m suspended
in beautiful nothingness
children laugh, explore
and discover colored rocks
hidden in the sandy shore
They jump, splash and crash
In the water, pulling me under
Into beautiful nothingness
Dripping wet, I lay in the Sun
Heated and toasted
dried and baked
I close my eyes
My ego has disappeared
I'm suspended in animated waves
Every desire has left me
Nirvana is in my soul
Friends at the table give
Thanks and share
Phil’s spicy hamburgers
Lettuce, tomatoes and oranges
And watermelons
Fish and sweet corn
Talk of distant loved ones
Brings us closer together
Ending in contented silence
Tired bodies rest in hallowed peace
Broken only by
crying loons under stars
Calling me to go to sleep,
In this holy and treasured place:
where Nirvana and Beauty Merge
into Beautiful Nothingness.
--Michael Hooper, July 2002
This poem is dedicated to Phil Anderson who, on vacation, said, “I’m going to do as much of nothing as I possibly can. How do you quantify nothing? Just you watch.”
