As to Realize the Shining Light
A Poem
How much truth do we want?
Enough to point fingers and blame,
sufficient to know we do the same,
as much as to realize the shining light?
How much truth is enough,
at what point we’ll go blind,
by staring at the sun,
should we instead look for the stars?
How far should our gaze stretch out
to find out who we are,
are the stars our reflection,
are we looking from the inside?
We are discerning our image,
and this cosmic being, we are,
who replicates ad-infinitum,
both inwards and to the outside.
Can we tell then who we are,
by looking at all the bright stars,
as they illuminate this cosmic darkness,
while our nearest star gives us warmth?
How much truth is then enough,
not to point fingers or blame,
sufficient to know we are the same,
as to realize the shining light.
