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The Empty Land

I stand before an empty land,
and with my eye,
fill it will ten thousand things.

Ten thousand lotus flowers,
ten thousand bobbing stems,
one hundred thousand circling petals,
and ten thousand secret smiling with-ins.

And when I turn my back,
they crumble into dust.

And when I turn again,
they leap upwards and return in a blur of stumbling static.

Are they real,
of course,
but not.

And I wonder,
what lies in your empty land.

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