Truth

It's a rough one when encountered, all these little bits of truth;
Getting heads around its edges is a challenge with some worth;
Bad old truth is not the fun kind, so we spin a lot of lies;
But when truth is full of sunshine, our hearts sing, and spirits fly.

Bad old truth like death and dying, loss of job, and world corrupt,
Dropping income, coming winter, and a car that's gone kaput,
Racial hatred, war and terror, floods and earthquakes by the score,
Make the news at every level, though we long for something more.

Jacques Ellul said we construct it, our cocoons with hardened shells,
Though we know way deep within us we're avoiding real hells.
We would rather make believe that what a politician says
Has some bearing on the truth, then play surprised when darker days.

We are not deceived by evil, anger, pain, or hurtful lies;
We play games with lower notes, then join in acting mock surprise;
That's all fine I guess so long as playing’s not mixed up with truth –
We prefer to walk when sunshine, real or fiction, lights our route.

But there comes a time when fiction leaves us standing in a lurch;
Not to the fiction of a story-easing truth, like when in church –
More the fiction of deception perpetrated on ourselves,
When our games are not sufficient to avoid our little hells.

We each have a bunch of choices as we stumble on each day;
Sometimes we can't cope with darkness, then our minds come into play
Shielding us from darker terrors our wee brains can't take today,
Till we've gotten more perspective, easing truth to light of day.

Circuit breakers for our feelings guard the software of our minds
From the darker side of living when reality's unkind;
When we break through to the sunshine midst the evil of our day
Then the breakers switch to ‘open’ and the truth can have its way.

Desperate for some larger purpose, fuller sense of life around,
I walk into utter darkness taking truth where e'er it's found;
I do not like sin and evil, pain, deception, games, or lies,
But I find the truth among them, fleeing from them is not a wise.

So I push through tougher truth like singer said she did with pain,
Said she found her songs got better when she held her ground again,
Said she used to flee from terror, ugly side of present days –
When she turned and faced such darkness, from her heart flowed vibrant praise.

So the low notes on the keyboard put a base in melody,
As the high ecstatic trilling shares the thrill of better days;
But for most of modern music I hear played out in our song,
There's a meaning in the madness, middle notes not bright or wrong.

“Live each day here in the present” are the words of some guru;
“Don't cross bridges till they're present, whip ourselves into a stew”;
There are highs and lows aplenty as we journey on through life,
But we're mostly in the middle, as our neighbours when in strife.

Balance is not found within us, so to seek it there is vain;
It is in the larger body, bringing freedom back again;
Most folks trudge along quite stable, middle notes express their mood –
Freeing us to play the low notes, or ecstatic joy exude.

Being gloomy or ecstatic midst of a crowd of folks out there,
Does not shift their moods towards us, as they into distance stare;
So be happy when you're happy, cry your tears when life's not bright,
For there's balance in the body, mama's there to kiss it right.

We do not affect the mainstream of the current of mankind;
It's not good when many people catch a fad amidst the grind.
Hitler pulled it off, like others, flamed up brightly for a time,
But then sputtered out quite quickly – “We're deceived!”, cried out the blind.

navigation