In the Mojave desert
I once spent the night
talking to the stars
in darkness
in a sleeping bag
atop still warm sand
as the wind calmed
eyes to the heavens
filling my mind
with wonder
as I told the stars
that they twinkled
and could think
of nothing else
that the universe
wanted to hear
and so
I closed my eyes
and listened
and heard
myself talking
as always
to
myself.
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Truth (with a capital "T") is the elephant, and humanity the blind touching, sniffing, tasting, listening to this big "T" and of course we all rhapsodize a different tale (or tail?), yet in the end the big "T" is still the big "T" and all our various tales describe a tiny bit of that reality, the elephant.
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