No Lie

There is more beauty in truth
even if it is
a dreadful
beauty,

even if it wrecks
the gut, plaits cords of fear
so tight it seems
there is no unbinding them.

No, no lie
comes from the truth,
the truth that slips cool hands
around the graspable side,
that opens mouth to teeth and teeth
to tongue and tongue
to where it hinges.

Fingers are not nerved enough
to read the Braille written
over every thing. If they were,
we would still die asking
"was this enough?"
or crying
"you are yet unjust."

And what
of beauty? All I know
is I must choose to plow soil
or throw stones.


---
"There is more beauty in truth, even if it is a dreadful beauty."  John Steinbeck, "East of Eden."
"No lie comes from the truth." 1 John 2:21 NIV

Brumal

The birds are blithe today because
it is warm for the first time in weeks.
Since the ice storm, we have all be conserving,
a little desperate,
resigned to yet another snow.

Small animals have stripped bare
the broken branches of the crabapple
which cracked under weight of ice and are now
half submerged in white. The bark
is peeled away by their sharp teeth.

My father shoveled a path to the back deck, yesterday.
And yesterday a half-eaten rabbit
froze on the stones.
Today a white throated sparrow
stood on my finger and picked seeds
from my hand
held out the window.