It's the kind we can identify,
Tag, and place on a shelf
For future reference--
Yellow clover flowers clustered
In the sun, face up and filling
The air with an excess of colour;
Layers of bird calls, circling the space
Enclosed by neighbourhood houses;
Sounds carrying from one
End of the scale to the other,
Modulated and unique.
The other kind of evidence
Is unseen and invisible--
The knowledge of an older generation,
Tribal and timeless, passed down to us;
The hope of a better world,
A world where we no longer
Constitute our worst enemy;
Spontaneous joy bubbling up
From hidden depths, a never-ending
Well-spring of exuberance.
What does it mean?
The unseen lays down the path
That the visible world follows;
What we feel to be true
Cannot always be pointed to;
Still, it exerts a pull on the soul
Like the moon directing the tides.
©2012 Michael Fraley
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