The Realization of Truth

The realization of truth arrives
On cusps of sleeping usually
When we get so small and
Behind our own eyes
We become drips of drops
All primordial ooze and fabric-of-the-universe
At one with everything

In these powerful and fleeting moments
When we confront our inner-
Fraud and genius
Both self-satisfied relief and disappointment
At least until we suddenly awaken
The Gestapo dogs attacking us
And everything is forgotten again