Nothing I see in this room [on this street, from this window, in this place] means anything. ~ Dr. Helen Schucman. A Course in Miracles (Kindle Locations 14146-14147). Foundation for Inner Peace. Kindle Edition.
Nothing I see today means anything.
The chihuahua I hear snoring in my husband’s lap
doesn’t mean anything, nor does my husband.
I can’t see the poodle at all, just the towel
for his use on the couch and the cushions
he pushed to the floor, but wherever Honeybear is,
probably at the breakfast nook window, but the poodle,
the towel, the cushions, the window don’t mean anything.
The ancient wheaten terrier beside my chair,
close to me where he chooses to be,
and these days so a gentle hand on his head
with the aid of carpet, grass, or an old towel
tossed before him to aid his standing
is a welcome help…he, too, means nothing.
The chihuahua I hear snoring in my husband’s lap
doesn’t mean anything, nor does my husband.
I can’t see the poodle at all, just the towel
for his use on the couch and the cushions
he pushed to the floor, but wherever Honeybear is,
probably at the breakfast nook window, but the poodle,
the towel, the cushions, the window don’t mean anything.
The ancient wheaten terrier beside my chair,
close to me where he chooses to be,
and these days so a gentle hand on his head
with the aid of carpet, grass, or an old towel
tossed before him to aid his standing
is a welcome help…he, too, means nothing.
Maybe it’s nothing, but do
I have this wrong? If nothing means anything,
is that the same as everything meaning nothing?
is that the same as everything meaning nothing?
