Blanks

In the journey

from desire to destiny,

a space awaits

A void distinct

filled to the brim

by planning, doing

Artwork of hand, head

and the disarming futility,

awaits finishing

Music were as if only the notes

and not the silence between them

weaving melodies

Desires, actions, nonfinality of destination

mere scaffolds for non-action

to unfold life

The ultimate yearning to become

by unbecoming

all that you ain't