The blue truth

Go to the very edge of things,

To where the day cedes

To night, as the sun

Slips behind a line

That exists only between

The ceaseless beat of waves, and

the stillness of heaven;

and you will see

That the truth is blue.

Held in a stone, clear as the sky,

Like a river that runs through

Everything, is a colour

That is - almost - impossible to grasp.

Until one day, hands interlaced

In prayer, you bring it up

Like a fountain, into the light.

Pure as the Kashmir Sapphire,

The soul’s apophthegm.