No mask can veil the truth we trace,
no will so fierce it folds against the night;
no stain can linger where the fields are white,
no shadow deep enough to hide a face.
For life returns whate’er we send through space,
a widening arc beyond our mortal sight;
and though our deeds may thunder and remain,
it is intent alone that leaves its radiant light.
The hand may falter, the heart misstep its part,
yet seeds of purpose rise where none are sown;
the cosmos bends to motions of the heart,
and stars align according to what is shown.
Judge not the act, however loud it seems,
the quiet will endure beyond the thunder’s dream.
Within the hidden chambers of the soul,
the spark reveals the truth that lights the whole.
