What is love?

What is truth?

I'm obsessed with ideas undefinable.

I long to understand things insubstantial.

I pursue ghosts down hallways of glittering globes.

   But they drift away.

And alone with my thoughts I can only ponder and wonder.

And reach out to touch wisps of something already disappating.

   Already gone.

Humanity is locked in a room lit only by love and truth.

And we desperately grab at the light bulbs claiming

Yes! This is it, now we understand!

But each bulb is not light itself.

Love and truth are not so easily defined,

   They can not be pinned down.

But every once in a while,

They are felt.

Like sunlight warms the finger tips reaching longingly upward,

So we can feel love,

So we can feel truth,

If we reach for them.