Honesty

As if honesty could be made softer...

When compromised to confort

some confused theater play,

would it still be this raw water

which springs from one's cells core,

which sets life in one's eyes

and frees both shoulders and heart?

What is honesty

if not the glowing sun

or the tranquil earth?

The origin of one's laugh

and the growl of one's guts ?

When the wind blows

as it has always been

and the sky is still

as still as it is.

One's life could be the same as the sea :

flowing and crashing...

with everlasting ease.

Tell me...

what has been forged

between me

and the world's graces?

Author's Note

If you notice any grammatical disorder please, tips are most welcome.