Truth doesn’t come in a pretty package
tied up in wrapper and ribbon.
Truth comes in a flash of insight,
in words left unspoken.
One might pray for truth yet never find it
until ready, stretching, in a desperate,
humble moment of surrender.
Truth doesn’t enter the writer’s mind
while she waits, pen poised to capture it.
Truth comes in the dark of night, in a dream,
or from the mouth of a child. It comes
in a glancing ray of sunlight breaking
like a fountain through clouds,
barely glimpsed while fighting morning traffic.
It comes in the patter of rain,
after the lightning flash, after the thunder.
Truth is corruption still in the making,
unseen by the faithful,
veiled in lies, covered
layer on careful layer.
The scandal is never as naked as the truth.
Copyright © 1990, 2007 Barbara W. Klaser
I loved this, Barbara…thanks for publishing it.
Comment by Marion — 1/22/2007 @ 4:15 pm