Simply this is what you are
the twinkle of an eye or star
however nothingness appears
as smelly socks or pointy ears
or raindrops dripping in the night
it’s all a perfect play of light

Thought puts up a strong defence
for logic and for common sense
claiming there’s a ‘you’ and ‘me’ –
each with its own identity
but what you are is what you’re seeing
springing ‘out of’ pure non-being

In dreamless sleep ‘we’ disappear
our nature is completely clear
the body sighs with soft delight
as we lay down our heads each night
relieved to be without a mind,
we are the ‘thing’ we cannot find

That ‘Something’ doesn’t know a ‘me’,
for nothing is completely free
of form or name or mere description
being neither fact nor fiction
and yet we are that nameless ‘thing’
the silent song of everything.

© Lizzie Leigh

Poem of the title of the book, ‘Simply This’ (pub. 2005, edited 2024)

Picture credit: unknown but happy to credit if identified!