Writing By Derek Dodds

Truth’s Dance

i met this guy in Mexico years back
and he had this huge tattoo on his arm
he was powerful
like a shaman

i instantly felt he was my brother
and i asked him what veritas meant

he said truth
it hit me hard
it struck me like a bolt
right in the center of my being

because i knew that what he had on his arm
was the meaning of life
was the meaning of my life

even though most of my life was a lie
swallowing what had been passed down to me from my family
assimilating what ‘they’ taught me in all those hours of ‘education’
how to be a ‘good human
a good ‘citizen’
a good ’employee’

“I pledge allegiance to the flag on America, Russia, Brazil. . .”
but at some point, I started questioning


people say bla bla and
have lied so much to themselves
that the self-illusion has tied the tether of truth
into a noose
and the victim is life itself
and the patient and doctor have both signed the same contract
judgment day never comes
until the truth is set free

truth shows up (or doesn’t) in words and action, it is rooted in the heart
it is the heart’s counsel
in fact, the two are inseparable
when you talk of love
you might as well talk of truth
because they are so closely connected
they are more than intimate

everything emanates from that fire
the truth-fire of life
and it either burns clearly
or gets distorted by our own fears
by our own need for security
by our own need to be somebody
by our need to show others how ‘good’ we are

but the heart does not care about any of those needs
it only dances in the embers of truth’s radiance
it is in itself ‘alive’ with the potentiality of existence
it knows nothing else
in fact, no-thing-else is even possible

it has no other path
it is unidirectional
because of truth’s purity
the heart, thus, has only one destiny
so life’s journey is
a challenge
follow the heart

or truth
or a combined dance of the two
allowing for the truth to birth itself
in our lives

and uncovering
or recognizing
the heart’s song
is what is worth living for

truth’s dance
all of the blind spots
it doesn’t care if we look at those blind spots
it just keeps revealing
and the egos trips
and tricks ‘itself’
and ourselves

protecting itself
fortifying the illusion
the game
the shadowed existence

i keep watching

and the sensitivity grows
and the ego stops protecting itself
and it shows itself in its shadows
and the light grows

such is the movement of life
and the movement of death

Category:Poems & Prose
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