As Munty says, "I don't know" is the truth about many things,
such as the origin of the universe and the TOE.
That the mind says "I must know"
clouds over the truth of "I don't know".
We were immersed in love’s boundless dream,
Floating in peace on beauty’s quiet stream.
Truth could be clearly seen, so bright and right—
Purity’s goodness swelled each sparkling gleam.
Love is reason enough in its giving,
And beauty is its own excuse for being;
The doing of good is its own reward,
And the truth does best define its meaning.
Poets translate what’s within and above,
Exhibiting truths from depths unheard of.
There is one deep truth that I know is true,
As do you: “The truth of all truths is Love”.
SECRETS OF THE NIGHT
Soft and warm, the evening caresses me,
In gentle darkness and quiet stillness.
I beg her to yield her dearest secrets,
To reveal the full truth of what she is.
Much I already know from twilight dreams,
And from poems unveiling truth and beauty,
But, I ask, with my most inquiring looks
To know the deep mysteries of the night.
Above me, fires burn the stars away;
Below me, the Earth turns under my feet;
Within me, unworded dreams haunt my soul;
Around me, night pours blackness on the ground.
Often I’ve deeply felt thee, phantasm,
Known when you were there to encourage me,
Felt your touch in my heart between its beats,
Always sensed your presence in the mind’s sight.
Now I ask from your powers of the night,
Not immortality, nor youth, nor birth,
But only that I retain your presence
Within me, in rhythm and resonance.
Now I sense your sweep across my heartstrings,
For I’m undistracted by day’s bright noise.
NOW I hear your voice singing with my own;
NOW I know the love and goodness of man.
— The Awe-Full Truth —
I’ve said “Good-bye” to the dream of forever,
‘Though I’m too philosophical to be bitter.
Poignantly resigned, I accept, with hunger
And joy, all that’s left—whatever—with pleasure.
— The Beauty of Truth —
Life’s hardships can be softened by beauty,
Its weaknesses can be strengthened by truth.
When roses blossom, like realizations,
Beauty itself blooms from the well of truth.
— Essence —
When a deep truth is known so intensely
That all of its clothing falls away,
Then we have learned the beauty of truth, for
The reality of meaning is beauty.
— Fill the Cup —
Night’s cup is empty, bottomless, and cold,
Until the daylight fills it up with gold.
A life that flows freely brings us beauty,
Else suffering’s truth to us is told.
— On Earth —
Life’s familiarity prevents one
From marveling at beauty so well-done,
Yet the truth is staring at one: To live,
One must realize life’s meaning and then some.