Classic Poem

The Truth is large —
No man hath seen the whole.
Vaster than speech
It brooks not the control
Of Creed or Custom.

No book can hold it —
No device of speech or language.
Truth is the sun
And reason is the prism —
Your life before it,
Through which the radiance
Falls in various colors.

If this man takes the red
As you the blue,
Is yours the whole of truth?
Is his not true?
Spirit is Truth,
Howe'er the colors fall.
The fact goes back
To Spirit after all.