truth comes in the middle
the exchange often interrupted by its arrival
things are contrived and planned,
but truth comes despite the itinerary of events or the trajectory of a flight
that moves from something to somewhere, without knowing how
truth is the unexpected guest
beware of missing truth, it is as gentle as a misplaced feather
of a bird softly treading through the scenario
whether you pay attention or not, it comes
begotten by the indwelling of reality which breaks through
the multiplicity of actions and reactions
noises and distractions
truth is someone who eagerly desires to know you
like fire longs for the wood
the flame whispering its love song,
and your name is spoken in a language more subtle than words
a language heard in silence
a silence in the middle.