Longing for truth that saturates;
That soaks the skin, that clings and clutches—
Soothes, and will not release,
Absent ecstatic surrender.
Finding artichoke truth that opens
Leathery, leaf by leaf, its heart
Hidden-soft, and revealed only
After studied, patient effort.
To draw the butter, now;
And soon to dip the leaf.
Gary Witt
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/artichoke-truth/
