There is an art
to knowledge.

A blank page
suddenly filled with
colors, shadows, images.

A scene is displayed—
it carries ‘truth.’

A story revealed…
a simple glimmer
until another ‘matte’
is set upon an easel.

This time new shades
scatter the naked canvas.

I trust ‘knowledge’
to be like THIS.

If ‘truth’ ever be a ‘fixed’
held in a frame,
I pray I know enough
about knowledge to toss
the image into the flames
where ashes will rise
carried away by the wind

AND invite me to
long enough
and embrace the invitation

THAT knowledge
invites the creative soul
to discover
its ever growing wonder

never to be chiseled
in stone.

Stones crumble.

The gift of knowledge
is the ever-increasing
to strengthen, to surpass
all we ever thought
we understood.

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