I wrote
and I heard truth
Truth
had always been there.
Truth
is always there.
Why didn’t I
see truth before?
Why couldn’t I
hear truth before?
Truth had nudged
me for decades.
I just nudged
truth back.
Truth would not go away.
Truth haunted me.
I knew not
what truth was.
truth was in a place
I cared not look.
truth was in a place
I dared not look.
I never thought
to look for truth
through my pen,
through my grit
through my grime.
I never dared
to look for truth
through my pen
through my grit
through my grime
Not until
I wrote and I wrote and I wrote
about
the things that are
about
the things that aren’t
about
the things that may
about
the things that might
that
truth was heard.
Truth
spoke to me
with words
from a raining cloud.
Truth
spoke to me
withwords
from the sizzling lightning
burning
across the sky
blazing
a path
that I was
afraid to walk.
The words
dripping blood and ink
awakened
my mind,
awakened
my eyes,
awakened
my heart
awakened
my soul
truth
spoke to me
and now
I have the strength
to walk the path
of the sizzling lightning.
I am not afraid
of falling any more.
This is a wonderful poem, Stan. The questions, the "awakened" section - great! Some critique? - I see that you combined "withwords" in one stanza and put a space between them in others. Creating words like this is an interesting way to guide the reader and to establish the rhythm. I would recommend consistency however. Also where you begin a new "sentence" with Truth - I would suggest capping Truth unless you are choosing to make a point with the lower case truth.
ReplyDeleteNice work.