Flight of nonfancy
The truth, elusive as fireflies in youth's summer,
Remains just out of reach. We grasp,
Uncup our hands and the sparkle is gone. Bummer.
There are those moments when, sure, we gasp:
"Hey, look! I got it!" What then? Keep it in a jar?
Idolize the moment and drag it out later
Showing friends the carcass of foolishness far
Beyond imagining. But friends know what your
Error is and enjoy some second truth in the moment.
And there it is: the place where words and pictures fail.
Ugly in our palms, but lovely nonetheless as an omen:
Touching eternity like a knight's lips on the grail.
Youth loves the promise of progress. Age forgets
Beauty, Truth; knowing--there is no app for that.
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