Flipped Iceberg

Have you ever seen a flipped iceberg?
I haven’t
But I hear they are

Like out of this world beautiful
Possessing flames dormant
As lost lovers’ souls
Till found love rekindles
Bringing knowledge of Truth
To the surface again, and
For the first time

Sure I’ve seen pictures
Can they compare?
I think if I were to rest
My hand upon the luminous body
Of such a splendor, the Google Images
Would spontaneously explode, crying
“We’ve been found out!
The gig is up, he knows.”

The majesty
I imagine a flipped iceberg
Possessing curiously outweighs my
Trust in everything else

I can’t rely upon the words of
Others or the construction and
Operation of devices designed to
Capture and transmit images to my
Eyes as worthy enough vessels to
Accurately portray every shade and
Hue of Truth

A photograph; evidence presented
Points only to lesser things
Yet still communicates promise
Of what the true subject brings

Yet who am I to demand proof
Of such transcendent awe
I am a child, trying to collect
The shattered pieces of a dream
I never saw

Flipped Icebergs
I trust their elegance to exist
In fact I’m certain of it
Implicit trust

Though I’d rather believe
I’ve still yet to truly see
Than place their worth in rust


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