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Purpose of Nothing
By Randi Perez Helm
Purpose in the Nothing
Days on end repeat themselves
Morning noon and night
It's nothing to get a cup of milk or
To leave on the hall light
Stacks and stacks of building blocks
Strewn about the floor
It's nothing still to pick them up
Like so many times before
And then there is the soothing touch
Or word that brings new light
To a hurting, anxious, growing child
Who simply does not like the night
Cooking, shopping, bills to pay
Folding clothes forever it seems
The rain and snow keeps seasoning by
But dormant lie my dreams
Pointless, dull, routine, the same
My soul withers to empty
Only a tiny, hoping flicker remains
In the tomb my heart surrenders
A voice in the dark rings true and bold
'You have no need to wonder.
Don't you know you carried my name
Each time you fed the hunger?
And when the pain of an injured hand
Filled their eyes with tears
You touched the wounds with healing balm
You brought heaven near
Tasks that had to be done
Routine is your daily fight
It has become a root system of dependency
From which seedlings can take flight
It's all in the thought of things
And know that it is 'something'
You are my vessel of bonds unconditional
When you find purpose in the nothing'
By Randi Perez Helm
Purpose in the Nothing
Days on end repeat themselves
Morning noon and night
It's nothing to get a cup of milk or
To leave on the hall light
Stacks and stacks of building blocks
Strewn about the floor
It's nothing still to pick them up
Like so many times before
And then there is the soothing touch
Or word that brings new light
To a hurting, anxious, growing child
Who simply does not like the night
Cooking, shopping, bills to pay
Folding clothes forever it seems
The rain and snow keeps seasoning by
But dormant lie my dreams
Pointless, dull, routine, the same
My soul withers to empty
Only a tiny, hoping flicker remains
In the tomb my heart surrenders
A voice in the dark rings true and bold
'You have no need to wonder.
Don't you know you carried my name
Each time you fed the hunger?
And when the pain of an injured hand
Filled their eyes with tears
You touched the wounds with healing balm
You brought heaven near
Tasks that had to be done
Routine is your daily fight
It has become a root system of dependency
From which seedlings can take flight
It's all in the thought of things
And know that it is 'something'
You are my vessel of bonds unconditional
When you find purpose in the nothing'
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