A poor man's truth
I would seal my lips. My pen put away,
my keyboard -- abandon words ...
better still, opinions, queries, notions,
conjectures and suggestions
until I make the point
of every utterance ... praise. Praise!
Readily, would I praise --
unstintingly -- but, I am unable
to tell the Truth. And so I must resort
to a poor man's truth -- honesty,
broker the words faithfully
as I know how. These words
begin in the realm of praise,
begin in the realm of praise (!)
rasp and slice away, grind and whittle away
a measure of darkness, a measure of darkness,
a measure of darkness ...
tiny, slight but, steady on the mark,
flood the page and reward the heart with beauty,
with private confirmation and communion.
O child of God, abandon words
when they no longer connect.