Truth is the conquest of people who squander time;
wild-eye poets with fishing fly hair & lures for hands & mouths,
drifting upon oceans    far & wide,
or, a solemn mystic bowed over a shovel, digging
toward sacred temples somewhere in Sendai.

For the profane, you know…, “the clinically sane”,
truth is it’s own statement, a blithe argument of unverified fact.
If it could be verified, nobody would even care.
Few ever speak of gravity as truth; but, they all sort of feel it there.

A testimony of light will dope a darkness into wonder, so… why not let it be?
Instead of floundering in vast notions, such as, light cannot not be witnessed for it’s quantum,
or that stars can only define the sky by their reflection on the sea.

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