Truth
-Such a variable term
“This is true”
“This is false”
It seems we can never agree
And yet,
Truth is relative.
True to who?
False for what?
No wonder we can never agree.
We are all right,
All things are true
-even those which are false

 
 
Perception
The world is changing
Or is it?
We see not what is
But what has been
For many
The past is their only
reality
Until they can see
It is not what they are
But what they have been
And step from the mould
Into the formlessness
Beyond

 
 
Layer Under Layer
Layer under layer
Mask under mask
Who knows what the future holds?
Current expectations hold only the empty promises
Of human reasoning
And thought.
What appears true now
May only show its worth in days to come.
Remember: every truth tomorrow
Is a lie made yesterday

 
 
Behind the Curtain
So many other worlds
Just one hair’s breadth away
Whisper tales to me
Of things they’d never say

Lives we’ve never lived,
A forgotten mystery.
What if? You ask-
The answer unheard.

Who knows what joys
-and wonders untold -
Await in those worlds
Just behind time’s fold.

They seem wondrous to us-
Such a mystery they are.
And yet, our world is real too
And a mystery to them
-those who dwell behind the curtain

That miraculous wonder that we find
In their worlds,
Is the same mystery
That they find in ours

 
 
Truth’s Arrow
Who knows what is real
And what is not?
This whole ‘reality’
Could really be but
 A clever ruse
-And us the unknowing
Participants

And yet,
Does it really matter?
Much is real that we don’t see
-atoms, Pluto, the hot glowing center of the Earth-
What difference would it make if
Something we thought
True
Turned false?

Lies only harm when broken
The truth only hurts when told
 
 
Awakening
Dawn breaks
A flash of light on the dark horizon
Greets the day
We turn, muttering
In our sleep
From the light.
Away from that which we feat the most
And yet so badly need
-an awakening

 
 
Dreaming – a note on subjective reality
We are dreaming?
Is this world but a construct
Of eternal minds
To occupy one cosmic night?
A descent into madness
Perhaps
Or something more.
For what is reality
-flexible, uncertain
(The world is flat, after all)
But one gigantic, vivid dream?

 
 
Something More
All those little things
-tiny, smaller than you see
The smell of chlorine gas
The feeling of moist wind
All those little things
The specific details, such
As the sound of bugs
Or the shade of a bloom
That pale colour of the sky
And the way this air clings to my skin
Yes,
All those little things
That no one ever sees
Add up, as the waves upon the shore
Stretch out to form an ocean
So, too
Do these
Seemingly unknown things
Add up to something more
 
 
Smile
Smile
In a world such as this,
How can you not?
Amidst such beauty
As the world can give
We make such problems.
Do we need to be busy?
Running after a solution
We all have
But do not want?
Or are we really still blind
To the realities
Of our realities?
Smile
As two worlds coexist
Each unknowing
But always seeking
The same thing –
A smile

 
 
Sunglasses
Tinted Lenses
Windows of gold
 hide eyes wide with visions
 of a world beyond
A choice;
To see the world clearly-
Edges and boundaries?
Or to see the beauty of a sunset-
Orange and red?
Why must we compromise our sanity
For the sake of truth?