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Poem

A Few thoughts about truth.
That's it.
What’s truth? 
If I’m here in my room, inwardly in my inner room,
with an outer room out of me, around 
then this is the truth for me, 
in that moment, that second.

People tell stories, 
that store truth over truth on individual storeys.
They are poets that verse in layers
And their truth is the truth
When they truly tell it
When they truly feel it
In their hearts and their souls.

Your truth is not always my truth
But our truthes layer on the corner
Of the paper
Sometimes
Sometimes a lot
Sometimes a less
Sometimes.

Clouds are clouds are everywhere,
although when I see them 
I see them different than you see
But they are the truth 
In the two truthes of us
Two. 
True.

Sometimes I want to see the world
Trough your truth,
sometimes just a tiny glimpse
into the Uuniverse that sits next to mine,
next to me, inside
of you, around,
sometimes,
it glows in me.

She must be a beauty,
your truth and she truly is,
in her unique truthfull
uniqueness.
Truth is when I truly see you
When I truly take you with
Your truth when I truly
See the truth in me 
Through you.
That’s true.

I want to honour your truthes
Beauty that blossoms as light
In my hands,
this singular single true story,
that sits in your soul
and in my soul, in all
lights we are all in the worlds
truth
connected in an infinite dance,
that embraces and in the center
listens the heart to the rhythm of 
steps with a soft lovely smile.

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