Salt

Poetry on the subject of truth, time and perception.

With thanks to Quang Nguyen Vinh for use of the header image showing people pouring sea water on a salt field during sunset (licensing).

The truth rolled in on a wave
A cold wet salty sting in the face
That penetrated the mouth
And despite being spat out immediately
As all unwanted news is rejected
The taste remained firm
Pushing itself down the throat
Overcoming all other senses
     —nothing matters anymore
     —but the taste of salt
And it had looked
. . . so serene
So sun kissed calm
As it had rolled towards him
A sea blue and mostly tranquil
But for the natural movement of the waves
Gently fizzling out around his feet on the sand
Frothy like beer
To speak metaphorically
     —how are you?
     —what would you like?
     —what is your name?
     —how can I help?
The daily slops
Everyday rinses
Expected and if not welcome
Then at least known
Comfortable
Not like this
That rose from nowhere
A beast of reality unleashed from its chains
     —roaring in the face
     —claws to the conscience
     —ripping that known
     —believed to be
     —solid truths
     —to shreds
     —reality torn asunder
. . . and yet
The true reality of what had changed
Was merely his knowing
Nothing more than a personal perception
Something that just
Made the salt burn harder

Thanks for reading 🙂

N. P. Ryan

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