insight becomes art

When shadows gather in the corners of the mind,

And truths emerge that we would rather leave behind,

It is easy to point at the fracture, the flaw,

To name the chaos, recite what we saw.

But wisdom is heavier than the spark of complaint,

It asks for a craft, not the cry of a saint.

For every unveiled trouble, each unveiled scar,

Demands not just witness, but a guiding star.

So speak of the riddle, but offer a key,

Name the locked door, then show where it might be

That hands could turn hinges, that hope could begin,

That answers can rise from the ruins within.

For problems are prophets that beckon the brave,

They show us the ditch, so a path can be paved.

Thus truth becomes duty, and insight becomes art,

A promise to mend what we have dared to take apart.