It’s nice to know—
nothing matters.
Deep down we know:
this is a stage.
Each of us plays.
Some low,
some high,
but all moving through the same game.
I take mine serious.
Others don’t.
Most times I just say sod it,
do the thing I was debating,
and carry on.
It’s not only to explore—
it’s to live.
To live it whole,
to live it raw,
right down to the core.
So why not?
Why not take the ride?
Every thrill,
every fight,
every stumble,
every climb.
It’s all there.
It’s all waiting.
There are things to try,
things to avoid,
so many things
you won’t find
the first time.
And when it all spins,
when control slips,
when thoughts turn blizzard
and shelter is gone—
go back.
Back to the beginning.
Before the noise.
Before the weight.
Before feeling itself.
When matter was just matter.
When dark was not light.
No good,
no bad—
only unfolding,
only happening,
no plan,
no script.
And still—
all as it should be.
All as it always was.
All as it always will be.
In the vast,
ever-expanding,
universal sea
of galaxies.
-
Author:
Poetic Dan (
Offline) - Published: September 2nd, 2025 00:43
- Comment from author about the poem: As I tried to sleep the other night my head began to spin with thoughts, as I told myself nothing matters. This then started unfolding.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 6
Offline)
Comments1
We have to understand that the human viewpoint is not the only one or even the right one and that in fact there may be no viewpoint at all and that it is not even pertinent. A most mind provoking write.
I just had to check the figure out but yes our eyes see 0.0035% of what is actually happening in front of us. Always enjoy your vibration my friend, and appreciate your time.
You are most welcome and that figure only accounts for what is visible all the rest we don't know
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