Quid Est Veritas?
Is truth a knife-edge one must walk, carefully avoiding the monstrous wastes of error yawning on either side?
Or is truth like a tiny pure flower growing impossibly in a swamp of half-truths and lies?
Or perhaps, is truth like two cymbals from the farthest reaches of cognizance, brought crashing together with a tumultuous noise, casting into our minds the awareness that everything speaks true when heard properly?
Or is a truth a Holy Mountain of Understanding, floating above the hopeless either-or’s of our limited landscape, above the endless dichotomies of cerebral constructs arrayed like engines of war, shining its light into the eyes of those who have eyes, and warming and keeping alive those who do not?
What do you think truth is? What do you think truth can be compared to?
Slow Literature 
These pictures are all public domain so feel free to reblog this post. I would love to see people’s responses
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Truth could seem like a dream you cannot remember. Or maybe like a question from a lawyer in court which you are afraid to answer. . . . But for me, right now, it’s like eating an orange at breakfast and smiling at love across the table.
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Hah hah hah, you got me laughing. Well said.
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