Theory

The Scale of Eternity

Truth changes meaning with the scale of the gaze. The truth is one, but it is broken into pieces.

Look — the moon is truth within the night,
Yet nothing next to coronas of the sun.
A simple stone held gently in your hand is truth,
Yet Earth won't feel the weight of such a one.

So truth, when measured on an endless scale,
Forever shifts the meaning that we knew.
Then where is truth inside a living system?
And how can words explain a depth like this to you?

Truth keeps changing shape before our eyes,
As we step away or move into its light.
What becomes the ground beneath us here
May disappear when seen from greater height.

Maybe truth was never only one,
But lives where chains of cause and meaning meet.
And every time we change the vector's course,
We find another summit at our feet.

Those may be right who bind it all with love,
And those who say that truth does not exist.
From atoms to the parallel universes,
Still others search for answers in their midst.

But maybe truth is hiding in the error,
No matter which layer or depth of cause we choose.
Wherever something makes us see things differently,
From points like these, eternity renews.

Truth keeps changing shape before our eyes,
As we step away or move into its light.
What becomes the ground beneath us here
May disappear when seen from greater height.

Maybe truth was never only one,
But lives where chains of cause and meaning meet.
And every time we change the vector's course,
We find another summit at our feet.

And if the truth is one unbroken light,
The Logos handed down through sacred lines,
Then answers may not live inside equations,
But in the love entrusted to our hearts and minds.

Yet in quantum shadows, between the lines,
A physicist seeks formulas for dreams.
Truth is not a point — it is a current,
Where the observer changes what the world can mean.

Truth keeps changing shape before our eyes,
As we step away or move into its light.
What becomes the ground beneath us here
May disappear when seen from greater height.

We only see projections and their shadows,
Of dimensions hidden somewhere in the deep.
Truth remains complete within its weaving —
We're inside it, so the whole we cannot see.