Ode to Nothingness

Weaving through the silent cacophony

Is the peace within what there is not;

Where colours and music do not make appearances,

In this little corner, disappears melancholy.

 

Sensuous pixies touch my fingertips,

Whether in mind or in fancy beyond.

A caterpillar hesitant to transform,

Happiness is found in this very cocoon.

 

Voices outside fade into a hushed symphony,

Only heard within the sensitive labyrinth.

Though the world moves on,

In this little corner, disappears melancholy.