The simple truth is hard to swallow;
It lodges in the widest throat:
The shell of life is cracked and hollow,
And no-thingness is all God wrote.
That doesn’t fit the dream of ego;
It longs to build a pyramid
Where both the captive and the free go
To bare their souls before the id.
But heart will understand the letter
That’s written in transparent ink:
The fruit of intuition’s better
Than anything the mind could think.
Although it’s narrow as a lath,
Dance along truth’s sunlit path.
Photo by Casey Horner on Unsplash
