My head a pathetic fogginess that I can hardly see through,
not wanting to waste the opportunity of solitude,
I strain to focus,
chart my course through cloud to clarity,
longing for truth to declare itself,
and hoping I'm able to receive it.

Though a seeker of truth
I'm a lover of learning,
Love words, but not the speaking of them.
When spoken they are lost, gone from me.

Pure truth, let fall one crystalline sparkling drop,
distill my muddy mental waters;

Pure beauty, but a glimpse I ask,
one quick clear vision;

Pure love, if I could hold for one mere second
just a corner of your hem;

Evermore remembrance
could keep me on the road.

-HJ July 19, 2009