Truth Sings

Truth is Beauty


How do I tell a tale of woe

without it being a woe is me

experience we partake

life to unfold

a participant

active throughout it all

whether we want it or not

some things they pass

and some things ensnare

either way we find ourselves

along the way

our choice a destination

to reside within

a ride we rise and fall

and encircle ourselves

to be enslaved at times

at the beckon call

we exhale to thrive

a cathartic journey

a dream for some

like a fairy tale

and at times a nightmare

to escape

yet to stare the dragon in its face

and not flinch

and fade back to sleep

we peer into the unseen

and let light manifest

the deeds that devistate

to be wary of the imposters

that land upon the scene

is life what it seems

when we row our boats

down so many streams

and do we dare to navigate

the dungeons we create

or cast them aside

in a fury of ego theatrics

to deny their existence

when in the mirror

they reflect their pain

to see through and beyond

the facade

to be stripped bare

shall we dare to go there

and call out to the universe

our cry to leave the immortal trance

and rescue those

we love

to fall from grace

to land into the realms of mercy

where nothingness remains

and freedom reigns

into the heart of a healer

the soul travails

to return home

when its time is due

yet until then energy directed

can survive

all constraints of time

to absolve the choice

to wield the deliverance

of time

through it we travel

and beyond it

to be pure

the hope of darkness

radiates light to pursue

to cleanse the garment

we were given to wear

the spirits tear

and what shall be found there

amidst the auras

and ghosts within the ether

take not them with you

cast them not upon thy crown

for never were they yours to wear

remember this

in all you do

for none but you can do this task

to make the path clear

let not treachery follow you there

stew not in avarice

quick to act not out of spite

but to make time stand still

to capture the moment

for a picture tells a thousand words

the words you dare not utter

but I shall

to cleanse the debt and give it

its due

for some can be led

from their castes

back to be found at the holy gates

the echoes will play

harps or screams or all sorts of sounds

for what shall a life sing if not the truth


Picture:  “Truth is Beauty” sculpture by Marco Cochran

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