Towards a Full Nothing

Nothingness, nothingness
in the heart of all that Is,
the Is, that which always was and will Be.
There in that heart, nothing beats
except what Is.

And then something, something
happens with great light,
not piercing darkness,
for there was only light,
but a new light,
a light fathomed
by those given fathoming.

An empty light, a void of light
indistinguishable of itself,
except from the heart that made,
the Is that opened up,
made a space to share,
to overflow.

What are these thoughts
from on high here on earth?

The heavens stir the waters,
thoughts hovering over
this new, deep void.
Floating upon the face
of the void.

From void it began,
to void it will return,
all that is in it,
all that dwells to reckon
emptiness,
nothingness with shapeless shape.

Such formless beauty,
potential breathed movement,
flux resting in stability,
peaceful craft.
The fullest emptiness.
A prayer whispered,
still heard when nothing
is seen for all it is.