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Poetry & Fable >> Fables
two faced god, furrowed brow, skating on ice, ivory tower

The Littlest Truth

Author: Daniel Kemp

Copyright 2000 by Daniel Kemp

One bright morning, when I was young, I went looking for Truth.
I found the truth of the moment, fiery hot with Conviction, lurking around every corner.

As Time passed by I found the truth of today, the truth of yesterday, and the ever glittering truth of tomorrow. The truth of today is ever as a newborn, innocent and lacking of experience. The truth of yesterday is bound up with Hindsight, often found dwelling in the bottom of a glass, or bottle. The truth of tomorrow sometimes can be glimpsed, but skewed - as though through a diamond of many facets, none truly know which facet will appear.

Along the way I've met many gods, the small gods no one really considers gods anymore. Consternation, with his furrowed brow, walks alongside Loneliness - who seldom notices his presence. Sadness is a two faced god, sharing expressions with Joy - yet never are these two linked in public. Ecstasy is the small one hiding behind them. Love hides in a corner, rarely venturing to put forth her radiant face, while her sister Lust is often bedecked for a night on the town.

Dream sits alone in his ivory tower, and rare is the soul who ventures within to bring dreams forth into waking. Yet he sends out his shoots daily & nightly to all who are receptive. Peace, walking forlornly through beauty, often attaches a touch to his sendings, but she herself is difficult to grasp. Almost as elusive as Silence, who only dwells in shadow.
Inspiration shoots wildly in all directions, continually, and is amazed that so little takes. But her touch is of a moment, so light as to make a sparrow's breath heavy in comparison.

But of all these, it was Truth I most longed to see. Not the little truths, her children, but the Truth. That glorious maiden who has sent more men spinning down the arduous pathways of their lives, and has caused more bloodshed in her name than one can even contemplate.
And it was her I found one moonless night. Skating on ice, under a cloud-lit sky. I knew she was there because I could not see her. I knew she was both laughing and crying because I could not hear her.
She was/was not singing. And this is what my ears did not hear....

"I cannot be heard, I cannot be touched. I cannot be seen, I cannot be felt.

"Yet has man grown me into a legend. I alone am responsible for all fortunes and misfortunes. I alone, I am told, control Fate, and Destiny, and all their kin.

"I alone am unforgiven.

"For all that is done in my name, I know nothing. I am a dancing shadow that can only be seen in the dark, for that is when eyes fail.

"I spin in circles, upon slippery ice, yet to man I am a concrete eidolon - some great behemoth set in stone. But I am fluid. Man does not know me.

"I sing to the winds and the stars and the shadows, for these do not listen. Only these truly hear.

"I am held within the heart, nestling gracefully where none can see. I comfort you in times of despair, never deserting you even in your darkest hour. For, being un-grippable - I, alone, give you something to grasp. Deep within your core, there am I. My faces are legion, my voices a babel. I am a constant companion to those who have none, and where there are many am I never found.

"Rest not, you who seek me - for I remain in motion, ever just beyond. It is just that you should strive, for in my seeking am I yet invisible. I can be anything, at any time. This is the grace of my masque, and the folly of my wisdom.

"I am always with you.

And so I retreated to the little gods I've come to know. And Love came out of her corner and clasped my hand, smiling all the while. Loneliness has shown me his better side, Companionship. And she is beautiful, indeed. Peace now has a different field to wander through. Dream and Inspiration are more active than ever before.

For, having failed to grasp Truth, I now indulge in all her children, the little truths that sustain us moment to moment.

And Sadness has transformed into Joy.

(The littlest truth is this: She loves me.)

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