Since truth is its presence,

Being is beauty in essence.

Since in sensing everywhere,

Truth is unchosen the aware.

Since truth is unforbidden

And therefore never hidden,

Reality is not in hiding,

Rather simply in abiding.

Unpretending permanence

Is unconfounded innocence.

The truth is harmlessness.

The truth is always less

Than taught or any stress

Upon itself the freshness

Of thought. It is to bless

Substance of forgiveness.

Truth is purely to confess

Freedom by its keenness.

The truth is less than less

Overwhelming clearness

Of listening to its silence.

In the hearing of existence

The truth is less than pity

Of seeking more simplicity,

Which is only complication

And confusing implication

Of anything not being Here,

Thus the implement of fear.

For the truth is unimplied,

Not defined, not either tied;

Not denied, not either lied.

More; the truth is undefied

By any form of supposition.

Or; from suffering suspicion

Truth is free the faithful fee

Of every thee and me to be.

The truth is its confession.

Truth is mere compassion

With the distrusting fright

Of disurbing in your right.

The truth is not the trust

In the dust as being just

Less than its helplessness.

The truth is all happiness.

Clean is its timelessness.

When truth is so stainless,

It sustains without stress.

For the only lie is stress

Of Truth, which is existing.

There is nothing not existing.

There is nothing that is not.

There is nothing that is not.