A Better Truth
With many mirrors on the wall,
we are many times reminded
of ourselves and enter at our peril.
Life is a small and private place
when next to us we stand,
seeing what we think we are,
becoming what we see.
Keepers and guardians of time,
we measure and cut and give it
purpose and fearful aspect.
As the vine ensnares the purring tree,
turning gently around the trunk
and reaching up in exultation,
crushing and caressing,
we watch hourly the tentacles
of time climb sinuous over us
and strive to be unchanging.
But is not change a better truth
than sameness always to the end?
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