Although you call it thus, it cannot be
And of sound truth, perhaps your eyes deceive,
For there is but just one reality
Regardless of what figments thoughts conceive.
Belief alone has never made things so,
Although a heart may wish and thus acclaim,
But facts are facts and ever will be, though,
Others may of falsehood wrongly blame.
The brighter light can so illuminate
Pure elements that shadow may obscure,
So may we say of sound intelligence
That it perceives as clear what other blur.
The sharper intellect draws to itself
Pellucid worlds where many cannot delve.
© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.