What is Truth?

I closed my eyes and asked for inspiration, clearly stating ‘not my words’.   To my surprise truth became my question and answer.  I love poetry.

Is it convenient?

Or inconvenient?

Is it consistent to all?

Or sleight of hand?

Does it seek to understand?

Or impose standards?

Is it speechless?

Or the loudest voice at the table?

Is it consensus?

Or the power of one?

What is the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth,

So help me god?

I sit in silence waiting,

An inner light turns on,

For inner awareness is the highest knowledge,

That is not seeking to be clever,

Nor to illuminate,

It simply expresses what is so,

And then goes …

Home.

Truth has nothing to prove,

It stands as the rock of ages,

It neither toils nor spins,

As all relativity passes,

It is the peace of god that passeth all understanding,

It is the highest knowledge,

That knows nothing,

It never seeks to win,

Or to be heard,

Or to challenge,

Equilibrium.

It is the feather of truth that lands lightly on your table,

It arrives the moment you find peace,

In silence,

In relaxation,

To let go,

To simply know,

You are love.

You are the truth you are seeking,

It can never be found in a book or clever conversations,

It shines in the kindest eyes that knows you,

For life is the mirror and the mask.

Therefore life asks: 

What does life mirror to you?

And what do you mask?

For what you see in your world reflects you,

And what you hide from the world is your truth,

Yet only the truth can set you free,

To truly see what makes you happy,

And this gives you 360 degrees … of freedom.