A Year of Poems – Day 314

Truth has a sound
I like to think I have heard it,
ringing in a clear voice like a church bell Sunday morning.
I think I’ve smelled it, coming home to roast beef late on a winter afternoon.
I have felt its warmth in coffee cups mediating the heat of coffee,
warming my heart through my hands, as it is always warmed.
I know truth was in these things with all the certainty of a surge of joy,
which always attends a good job well done,
But my knowledge is always incomplete,
just like a coffee cup, which cools too quickly.
I have much to learn of truth.
I cannot retain it.

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