Lightning Rod Poem by Suzanne Hayasaki

If truth is as ethereal as charged particles
In clouds forming and storming
Across corn fields in August
I will not chase; I will wait.

If truth is as fragile as an orchid
Clinging to a tropical tree,
Then I will not trample and hack;
I will step delicately.

If truth is as elusive as a lost language
Spoken by the final survivors
Of an undiscovered tribe,
I will not invade;
I will not investigate;
I will not interview;
I will simply listen.

If I am still,
If I am silent,
If I am ionic,
I may invite the jolt of illumination,
The scent of deep secrets,
The rhythm of human thought.

If I let myself rest,
I may sense the vibrations
That have pulsed since matter became energy,
And in that code of motion
Detect a message
As faint and fleeting
As my own heartbeat
But as true as the universe.