Clumsy Rocks Make Unsteady Roads
The sun and moon hid themselves
When evening came,
The stars were
Too shy to light the night.
Yet I hear
The sweet fragrance
Of warm whispering flowers
And my ears and nose see,
Touch and taste
What
My eyes, hands and mouth
Cannot.
The sun and the moon
Showed themselves
When evening came
And the morning was
Just arriving.
The solid stone
Of philosophy
Makes true and real
The lies of fantasy.
Clumsy rocks make unsteady roads,
And philosophy is an unsteady
Mental journey,
But truth is not its map.
If swallowed by darkness,
The light does come again;
The flowers are sweet,
The rocks are solid,
And truth breaks
False words.
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