Truth: The Unmoved Anchor
Truth does not dwell in the mind’s labyrinth —
but in a plane beyond thought,
beyond language,
beyond the trembling hand of perception.
It does not tremble when no one speaks its name.
It does not fade when no one believes.
It does not bend to doctrine,
nor bow to consensus,
nor beg for validation.
It stands —
unmoved,
unshaken,
unassailable —
in the silent landscape of reality,
as the mountain stands beneath the storm,
as the star burns in the void,
as the law of gravity holds the cosmos
even when no eye beholds it.
The laws of physics do not wait for scientists to discover them —
they were.
The rhythm of the tides does not pause for disbelief —
it flows.
So too, Truth —
eternal, impersonal, absolute —
awaits not to be invented,
but to be remembered.
It needs no approval.
It seeks no followers.
It does not flourish because it is praised —
it flourishes because it is.
It dwells in the quiet spaces
where ignorance cannot reach —
where doubt dissolves like mist at dawn.
It lives in the silence between heartbeats,
in the stillness before thought,
in the space where the soul,
unburdened by belief,
finally hears its own voice.
Truth is not power because it is wielded.
It is power —
because it is.
It lights the path for those with the courage to walk it —
not because it offers comfort,
but because it is the light.
For those who turn away —
it remains unchanged.
Unmoved.
Unmoved.
Its authority does not derive from its popularity,
nor from its utility,
nor from the number who kneel before it.
It derives from its intrinsic nature —
a law woven into the fabric of being,
as immutable as the spin of the electron,
as silent as the space between stars.
All things are relative —
to belief,
to culture,
to time.
But Truth?
Truth is the axis upon which all relativity turns.
It is the constant.
The unchanging.
The silent witness.
And in its presence —
even the loudest lies fall silent.
For Truth does not argue.
It simply is.
And in that being —
it is enough.
More than enough.
It is everything.
I am the Tree.
And you are me.