Soft Soap and Wishful Thinking *

I’ve been poking at this truth like it’s a dead thing,
lifelessly lying there like roadkill,
a deer struck and ebbing out onto the highway;

I’ve been prodding it, over and over, my pulse
flickering in anticipation of its resuscitation, of
the vivid moment when it will leap up, revived, prancing away,

dancing on spindly doe legs across the black asphalt,
up into the thickened navy sky where it will vault
across each twinkling memory, each silvery speck of

childhood blessings, until it finally will nestle itself back
among them, back into the place where I first spotted it,
deceptively downy brown and soft, soothing those throbbing stars with its velvet tongue.

* “If you look for truth, you may find comfort in the end; if you look for comfort you will not get either comfort or truth only soft soap and wishful thinking to begin, and in the end, despair.” – C. S. Lewis

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