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The sun must bear the blame.
Its brightness
obscures all it touches.
The truth hides in its light.
Only in darkness will deep truth emerge,
then to scatter as fast as a millipede
chased by a stomping shoe.
My conclusion:
What hides behind the bright day
remains equally inaccessible at night.
Is there then no way to catch
the yearnings and the knowings
of the heart?
With soft words? Earnest enticements?
Silence? Thrumming hums
from barely engaged vocal cords?
Forget this search, that's my advice.
It will come or not, the truth,
but in its own time.
Just keep noticing—or you'll miss it.
Copyright © 2016 Ann Tudor
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