How often wisdom
Stays my hand,
Lays my tongue
Like heavy sand
Inside my waiting jaw.

While foolishness bubbles
Like a simmering pot
It roils and boils
Spilling what it’s got
Without discretion, without stop

How still I stay
And train my eye,
To look for truth, for integrity,
For the active lie
Inside the virtue.

But the manifold is diverse-
Subjective- all beholding-
And I’d rather be foolish and faithful,
Than wise and withholding.

About viewingcamelot

https://viewingcamelot.wordpress.com/ View all posts by viewingcamelot

Say Something

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: