i waver.
vacillating between what is true
and what seems true.
the line, thin
straddled between worlds
wandering
and
wondering.
i look to moments of pure
to find truth percolating
like a fresh creek
hidden in the deep
of a mountain.
smell the fresh
taste the air
feast on what is unseen.
i am heading toward what is true.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
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thx for the refreshing pause Liz.
ReplyDelete__________Ron