Truth often shines brightest from the interstice,
that unconscious space between
purposive thoughts when, unguarded,
a flash of intuition gives us an unobstructed
view of our truest selves.
Unvarnished, unflattering, undeniable,
like drunken words uttered late at night
to a lover for whom the heart has grown cold,
the truth of ourselves is hard to touch,
hurtful to hear, impossible to escape.
Judge not lest ye be judged,
an unrelentingly hard way to compose a life,
but the truth of those words
never shines brighter than when
we see ourselves through the interstice,
perceiving ourselves through God's fingers
spread across His disappointed face.
Let not the narrow spaces be a discomfort,
take joy in the fact that truth
intercedes so sparingly into ordinary life.
More frequently, and our spirits would be crushed.
More brightly, and our souls would be scorched
by the heat of unprotected truth.
God's gift may be His decision to give us His
truth in poisonous little drops that we can endure,
and which we can only receive through the interstice.
© Francisco G. Rodriquez, 2012