Truth

We say You're above time.

 We say You're above space.

By You there's no before or after.

 By You there's no here or there.

Anything humans can conceive,

 You are utterly beyond.

As the blind knows not red or green,

 We know You far, far less.

Thought too is an emergence,

 No less than time or space.

As You exist pre-time n’ space,

 So, You exist pre-thought.

Your impulse to create emerged.

 Then You garbed it in logic;

A newly woven garment,

 To clothe a raw, naked, impulse!

“Truth” is a logical construct,

 A mere weave in the garment.

So, why do seekers insist,

 “Truth is my Ultimate Light!”

Why do seekers expect,

 “Truth” to be identical with You?

At best, Truth’s only crumbs,

 Leading one on the way to You.

Can finite beings define You,

 N’ dare proclaim what You are?

Can a hand grasp a thought,

 Or a lantern, a flickering soul?

What a hand grasps,

 Is assuredly not thought.

What a lantern houses,

 Is assuredly not a soul.

N’ what Truth contains,

 Is assuredly not You at all!

All finites can know,

 Is what the Infinite is Not!

You are not what’s false!

That’s the closest we can get!

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