Truth Finds a Way

DW1 ~ Dreaming a New World ~ Philip Brent

DW1 ~ Dreaming a New World ~ Philip Brent

A hall of repeating patterns revealed
Lines, squares, columns and capitals
Straight, undulating, solo, combined
Define our world in shapes and lines

Like Booker’s seven basic story plots
Shapes and line are limited and finite
Until magical combination, creation
World shown new, never seen before

A secret we search for throughout life
Our imperfect combinations to tell us
Who we are, who we are meant to be
A new now, as it has never been seen

Nor heard, despite incomprehension
Revealing intimate details, ourselves
Our soul laid bare, in our joy, despair
Though we will not yet be understood

Our truth will sail off, settle, be found
Scales snatched from eyes, ears, voice
Our truth realized, confirmed, shared
Till it changes humanity and the world

Fearful, we’ll be cast off, lost unknown
May happen, but what we did remains
Resonates, reverberates, echoes in time
New lines, shapes combine, define now

Succumb, earless, deaf, yet full of sound
Pockets full of rocks, wade into the river
Head in the oven, bridge leaps, despair
No one knows our vision till we’re gone

Lesser lights seize the day, light the stage
Burn out, sparklers, spent and discarded
Charred, empty, merely one-hit-wonders
We wait, hopes dashed; truth finds a way

We and our truth remain, finds our time
Smoke-stained, ill-treated, left on a shelf
To be intuited, revealed, portrayed for us
Till we find a feast to fill us, at last replete

We will be told and told we have been told
We’ll be told again, beginning, middle end
Lest it appear I wax rhapsodic, simple, odd
Every new will bud, bloom, then fade away

If you cannot comprehend, mark me mad
End is the beginning and the beginning end
In the never was the always and the ever was
Was ever never always and always never was


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