We speak in shades, not in solid forms,  
In shadows, truth we seek.
Our eyes distort what norms conform,  
Through lenses, frail and weak.

Truth shines, illuminating night,
Its shine may hurt some eyes;
Those, whom offend the most it might,
Screen it in clever guise.

Traversed through prisms of the minds,  
Reflected off the mirrors of the souls,  
On its relentless journey through Time-Space:  
How will truth look, and what will it replace?

With fractured prisms of many minds,  
And mirrors warped in brace  
So passes truth through many souls,
In its relentless chase of grace.

Yet beams of truth, scattered as they may be,  
Will splinter off an unadulterated ray,
Cast its true colors, and unchanged in any way,  
Will reach those who, with open eyes, will see.

                            Paul Pinkhasik, July 25, 2024
illustration from internet.