Saturday, August 31, 2013

A poor man's truth

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 poems

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.

                   

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