You are the scorned fancy

The forgotten dream

Your gentle whispers hide between yellowed paper leaves

Your silent thunder in the glistening eve

the silent revelation left

to the crawling things

Shadows draped, stretched transparent out to dry

Behind trunk, stem and stone

Stars wavering, waltzing 

on the iris's balcony arches 

glittering through austral, wincing glee

Light landing, aging

x-ray of veins, leafy marrow and pore

Heat caressing, muffling

warm as the womb where the heavens were born. 

On Truth and Freedom

Surely the world is one that confuses honesty with truth. One can be “true to one’s self” and untrue to the Truth. The world views the idea of “Truth” as a snare, as something that constrains and limits us:

 “We need universes that constantly expand! Moral boundaries create categories that are not real! Truth divides! Truth narrows our minds to one reality! Truth prevents us from defining who we are! It gives us a pre-made identity! It tells us to sit still, be quiet and keep our mouths shut. It tells us to throw away our toys, our joys, our name tags and customized profiles. Rebellion is noble. The shocking is glorious. Shame is a needless fetter, nourished by the spoonful with tradition. Take pride, dance in your nakedness. Let the world see your blood, your bile, your mucus, your grime. Let others see the work of your hands, your twisting, contorting, your melding and molding. Stand tall, and let your veins pop. Let your fingerprinted body take on this new skin. Finish your art with a varnish of sweat. Stand tall. This is your world.” 

And yet, the words of Jesus stand: “You shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.” Truth cannot be escaped from. If we close our eyes, it does not mean that the world disappears. If we cannot see truth, it does not mean it cannot see us. Truth is a threat...To some it is a threat of judgement, to others a threat of grace--a violence to the flesh and their sin. So they are afraid, and they build their own sandcastles. They play dress-up, they put paint on their skin and play their parts. They give new names to themselves. Their imaginations run wild, and possessed by them they run off the cliff. The rules of this game aren't written in ink.

But this isn’t just “them”. I know it’s me, too. I see these temptations in myself. The idea of creating my own reality, when I do not feel comfortable with Truth. Self-deception is alluring and inviting. Deception pretends to care, pretends to offer you...What?

 “That thing”. 

Deception is a very good salesman. 

“Woe to you who call good evil, and evil good.”

“Behold, You desire truth in the innermost being, and in the hidden part You will make me know wisdom.”

You shall know the Truth and the Truth shall set you free.