What Is Truth?

My understandings come in bursts of light
Illuminating an expanse of imaginal plane.
My theories come in synchronicities and
instinctual leaps.
My truth comes in different shapes and sizes.
It is not free, but fluctuates
in value and price.
Sagacious butterflies may morph
into pre-archaic beasts
of mechanical flight,
then fission into visions
throughout multi-dimensioned space,
or coalesce into a perfect face.
Is there Truth?
A million tiny fireflies flash out divine runes.
Packing up my picnic,
I head on home to ponder.
On my way
a willow tree
swaying majestically over rippling water
opens to a glimpse
of the frozen moon.

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