What is Truth?
What is Truth?
“What is truth?” rhetorically they asked ev’r so smug.
“Is there even such a thing as truth in our world?”
I searched the sky, the stars were pale, faded black rug
I searched the ground and the leaves of grass were parched, old
I searched my heart – and I was not alone, but bare
I searched my brain – I was one soul of the ages
I looked in my pockets and full of coins they were
I looked in my books, they were full of blank pages
Truth is a woman in your arms, love sets you free
Truth is a breath of fresh air, after reading Keats
Truth is her kisses on your lips when she can’t flee
Truth is the Eucharist at Mass when your heart beats
They will always seek Truth: to diminish it, kill
For when we love, we love with Truth, like Turin’s Shroud
They will always say it’s just glands, or that you’re ill
But when the Truth wakes in your heart, it speaks so loud
I searched my heart – and frail fair Maiden Truth hid there
I searched my mind – and my soul sang of her crown
I looked in my coat, found handwritten notes on air
I looked on my computer, and the internet was down
Truth is wine and bread, for it alone sets you free
Truth is a Knight in steel armor with sword in hand
Truth is a woman who will trust what you can see
Truth is a Maiden… her name is written in sand.
A poem for our blasted modern time. Dedicated to those who died in the Smoleńsk Air Disaster on April 10, 2010; the 96 Polish Government officials including the President of Poland Lech Kaczyński and his wife Maria, while they were flying to the Katyń Forest Massacre Memorial to pay homage to the 22,000 Polish Officers murdered by the Soviet Union Secret Police in April-May of 1940 and to those Poles still alive who dare to question the circumstances surrounding the current events.