In Search of Truth

There is a kind of belief in truth
no matter what
or where it lives . . .
perhaps it resides in a single pore
on an ultimate being
like a fine golden pollen in the center of a flower;
or a delicate garden spider in the center of a gossamer web. . .
nothing more than
an iota, a speck,
yet as large as the
biggest galaxy
spread out before the eyes
of a creator playing with time.. .. ..
If we look with open minds
we find but a bit of the puzzle
and we know this, that the god we know
here on earth. . .
is but a construct of the minds of men
created in his - man's image
often judgmental and hateful,
but perhaps if there is truth
there is God,
yet still
I do not see the face of this God
nor yet know the name
of this being.. .. ..
lost to me on this mangled planet. . .
so that I seek no face attached,
just through the glory of the stars, the earth and
the universe from within
the imaginings of human-kind searching
seeking through  a finiteness -
a littleness -
a fearfulness -
a despair in ourselves -
we seek ,
as the music
of the comets
courses through our bones
and
there is something
divine
in the creator whatever it is,
whomever it is,
of all things.. .. ..
and the final truth
inspires the
desires of our hearts.

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