Ex Nihilo

I pick up shards

From a broken glass

And drop them in

A canary bin close by;

I am thinking of dogs

Or squirrels that may

Get cut as they pass.

Why stand bargaining

With the harsh nihilistic

Mist, when meaningful

Acts will just brashly

Burst through its blank

Walls, regardless of their

Seeming impassibility?

There is always more

Good to do. Even if none

Of it matters, which in

A sense, means all of it

Does.