Poetry by Cynthia Pitman
Nothing is a hollow place.
It takes up residence in your soul.
How can that place be filled, be healed,
be made hallow with celestial ecstasy?
Should you hunt for a new soul,
discarding all that withers away within,
renouncing your Self in the process?
Or should you just continue, barren and broken,
seeing, and feeling, and knowing and being
Nothing?
About the Poet
Cynthia Pitman began writing poetry again this past spring after a 30-year hiatus. She has since had poetry published in Vita Brevis, Right HandPointing, Adelaide Literary Magazine, Ekphrastic Review, Literary Yard, Amethyst Review, Postcard Poems and Prose, and Leaves of Ink. She has had fiction published in Red Fez and has fiction forthcoming in Saw Palm: Florida Literature and Art.
For the first time in nearly five years, Vita Brevis is closed for submission. Read the full story here.
Vita Brevis Press. 
Hi. Thanks, again, for another great poem. Will share. Have a great day. Goff
Thank you, Goff.
Nothing is sometimes all we have. This was very deep, Cynthia. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you so much, Susi. This poem means a lot to me.