Paradox

I cannot tell a truth
As pure as the truth of a rose
All of the words that I know
Would fall far short of its beauty

I cannot define a limit
To the life of a deepening forest
Nor can I speak with the breath
Of a glistening mountain lake

Yet I do not stand outside
Of the truth or the breath or the beauty
For in nature is held in full
The essence of all that I am

Copyright © 2010 Mary Beth Watt. All rights reserved.