Pluck gently
At the flowers of truth,
Or pluck them not at all.
For they will wilt if not nourished
By the essence of truth itself.

Place one gently
In the cavity of your heart,
And as you wait patiently
For it to settle, and unfurl,
Sway and dance to it's rhythm,
Yet be not swayed by untruths.

Protect it against the waves of lies and deceit
That would turn you away
From who you really are.
For even as you are important,
So is the truth that you alone
Can carry and nourish with the strength of your faith
In that what is right, and just, and true.

So long as you shall live,
So will the truth of who you really are.
Seek not a substitute for the truth,
For there exists none.
Neither as a palliative,
Nor as a buffer against the cosmic waves,
Though there are many
Who would like you to think
And feel otherwise.

But only you, and you alone
In the inner depths of your being
Know who you really are.
Pursue your inner truth, and
Discover your own identity, O Wanderer,
So that you may wander no more.

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