Truth Of Meeting – a poem

Shards of sharp truth fall

From slightly cloudy skies,

Expected yet unexpected, secrets

Of far off seen skies, scudding…


The glow of late winter rising sun,

Orange orb dwelling low in clouds,

Visible for the weather, a sight

As of a spherical god looking down.


Impromptu and unplanned trips

Out of one’s comfort zone alone…

And delivered unto the cityless land,

Into that breach, for a soul to reach…


A fell journey? Hardly?

Cold more like, kin to the ‘membrances

Of sweet acridity in the laboratory

Where sane jealousy plotted death.


Yet such prospects may be set aside

For the nonce, A hope to spring

And be made real in meeting, synergy

Formed from fractured parts joined whole…


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