As long as you can see the evidence,
The trail of breadcrumbs that reinforces your confidence,
You feel connected to the facts.
For you, nothing falls through those proverbial cracks.

But what if you have had it all wrong?
What if you have been beating the gong
All the while the birds were singing?
What if you had missed a vital link and now you are reeling?

As long as you can see the trees,
Those tall, majestic, pillars in the breeze,
You feel anchored to that benign idea,
Making rubbish of all other criteria.

But what if, in the end, you were right,
Rendering all this an avoidable plight?
Then let the birds have a go at each crumb,
So long as the breeze does not first come.

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