Poetry time

Once in a while I get a desire to write poetry.  Usually it goes away but this one would not let me be.

I heard

I wrote

and I heard

 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

the things that aren’t

about

the things that may

the things that might

that

truth was heard.

Truth spoke to me

with 

words from a raining cloud.

Truth spoke to me

with

 words 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,

my eyes,

my heart

my soul.

truth spoke to me

and now

I have 

the strength

to walk the path

of sizzling lightning.

I am

 not afraid

of falling any more.