RAINBOW WINGS
When the cloud is not down on the hill
there is no magic.
When everything is so clear,
nothing is seen.
The sound of the river,
what voices does it carry?
How can it be unravelled?
I shall tell you a truth
that is mine alone,
a truth of gold and silver
as pure as dream
and as radiantly unscathed.
A truth of rainbow-sheened wings,
roofing a golden palace,
dispersed by a breath,
by a doubt, by a breeze.
The truth no one believes –
that is the way to touch the Real.
The truth that cannot possibly be true,
that is laughed out of every hall,
that truth is the truth that can change the universe.
—
simonhlilly 