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.
©2016 Michael Fraley
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