I have seen the truth,

or half-seen it,

running next to me

beyond the bushes speeding past.

Keeping pace,

allowing only glimpses

here and there,

like a feral child

or predator.

I am afraid I will never see it clearly,

but fear facing it without

dark glasses or nature between us.

Sometimes

it breaks through the bushes

where nature is thin

and affords less protection

from what I most fear and desire.

Then it is too close

and I sense rather than see

a huge muscular beast

as it passes between my eyes

and the road ahead.

Then it is gone,

rushing next to me again

with the blurred veil of nature

speeding toward my past.

I once saw a whale under the ice,

at least it seemed a whale,

although indistinct. There was

a sense of danger as though it

might at any moment crash upwards

and crush me without pity.

Fear and curiosity pinned me

and I could not turn away

until I remembered it was lunchtime.

William E. Rushman, August 1998