Truth’s Shadow

Like a seed aspiring the bloom,
A cloud anticipating its passion to purge,
The slap of a newborn's bottom,
A being’s first gasp,
Introducing realization,
Life’s first truth.

What continues to be realized?

Freedom seems apparent
Until strings become attached.
Actuality seldom feels grounded,
As suspension becomes the norm.

Time passes.

Expectations wane.

Brightly painted smiles
Succumb to harsh realities.

So…

Many dream like Pinocchio's yearnings,
Wanting only to be real… truly alive.
Minions cling to time's make-believe-toys,
While others try to stave off the loneliness
Often accompanying maturing.

Age accelerates
While pretending lags behind,
Accepting not fate's inherent limitations.

Still…

Beyond disillusionment
Resides infinite purpose,
At times outside destiny's cross-hairs,
Lazing on the void,
Awaiting fully opened eyes,
Where focus can realize anew
Infinity’s vertical and horizontal convergence
Of truth and falsity,
That place where locked tears
Burst like awaiting matchheads,
A personal Big Bang,
Erupting too quickly
For doubt to contain.

Such is truth.