Empty Slates

Life is just an empty slate With no more time than we can take, An essay much too large to write An idle thought too dark for light; This paradox that keeps us bound! Too much to say, so make no sound; Fill up this slate with what it's worth And waste your life with weightless words. So cure the void inside our times With symmetry and slanting rhymes, Like poetry could change our face As we remain in Desert Place: We long for love and to belong For human soul in dance and song We outline time; our plans are great! To fill the space on empty slates. But alas, again, our slates are blank From too much planning, too much lack; We chase our dreams on pillows rest But keep our spirits in our chests.