A Vacant Lot

What if life were a vacant lot;
no grasses or trees abound;
a surface made of igneous rock;
and no life within it, found?

Trees and flowers; only a dream;
and birds; mere imagination;
nothing at all; fit reality’s scheme;
for Thought had gone on vacation.

No rivers existed; and no seas;
such;  an imagination collage;
no water; my thirst to please;
for water was just a mirage.

No sense of purpose ever existed;
for there was no one to please;
nothing was there that had persisted;
and there was nothing to seize.

There never would be any war;
for no one was there to fight;
no lost love for me to look for;
no distinction; wrong or right.

Without all of these, does reality exist;
is there such an entity as place?
Without matter, only thoughts persist:
and thoughts require no space.

Reality consists of both good and bad;
infinity requires the presence of all;
emotions range from happy to sad;
all, brought about by man’s fall.

The Master accepted all bad with the good;
paid the price for all evil brought;
for, unlike man, God totally understood;
Thank God, for my vacant lot, He bought.