Truth Finds a Way

Gods or Monsters ~ Philip Brent Harris


A hall of repeating patterns is revealed,
Many lines, squares, columns and capitals,
Straight, undulating, solo and combined
Will define our world in shapes and lines.

Like Booker’s seven basic story plots these
Shapes and lines found limited and finite,
Until a magical combination, equals creation.
World shown new, as it’s never seen before.

A secret we search for throughout our life.
Our own imperfect combinations to tell us
Who we are, can be, who we are meant to be.
To find a new now, as it has never been seen.

Nor heard now, despite our incomprehension
Revealing intimate details about ourselves and
So our soul’s laid bare, in our joy, our despair,
Though, sadly, we will not yet be understood.

Our truth may sail off, slip, settle, be found,
Scales snatched from our eyes, ears, voices.
Our truth then realized, confirmed and shared
Until it changes humanity around the world.

We fear that we’ll be cast off, lost, unknown.
It may happen, even if what we did remains,
Resonates, reverberates, echoes across time,
Old lines, shapes combine, defining our now.

Some succumb, earless, deaf, yet full of sound,
Their pockets full of rocks, wade into the river,
Their head in the oven, bridge leaps, anguish;
No one may know our vision, until we’re gone.

Lesser lights may seize the day, light the stage,
Yet, burn out like sparklers, spent, discarded,
Charred, empty, lost, merely one-hit-wonders.
While we wait, hopes dashed; truth finds a way.

We and our truth will remain, to find our time.
Smoke-stained, ill-treated, left on a shelf, lost.
To be intuited, interpreted, portrayed for us,
Laid before us, a feast to fill us, at last replete.

We will be told and told that we have been told.
We will be told again, beginning, middle and end.
Lest it appear I wax rhapsodic, simple, just odd,
Every new, will bud, bloom, only to fade away.

If you don’t comprehend, you may mark me mad,
End is the beginning, the beginning is the end.
Since in the never was the always and the ever was,
It was ever never always and always never was.


Peace is Purpose, Nonviolence is Strength, Diversity is Unity, Empathy is Empowerment


Please, leave a comment and let me know what you think.

See more of my creative offerings and opinions at:

Brent Harris Fine Art

Philip Brent Digital Art

Vida Voices

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