A hitherto unrevealed thing,
relative to which,
your doings are judged,
the deviations of your deeds from the, yet nebulous, so called, truth are measured, quantified and then given the deserving response.
God who hosts the truth,
who anchored this thing onto the cosmos,
forgets to install within us,
the ability to measure it, to predict it or to be certain about it.
Yet we act like we had always known it.
Truth might be old but is never our friend.
It is a stranger who can knock our souls at any time,
stretch its arms and ask us to fill it full.
We might even embrace it,
but wont this uncertainity, conjured out of our fated inability, remain
that the stranger who claims to be the truth,
is not the truth after all.
Bijay Poudel's Other Poems
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Truth by Bijay Poudel )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(January 30, 1935 – September 14, 1984)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
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