Objectivity

A poem with the prompt 'objectivity' written for Poets United

Look at all sides

The Puzzle of Objectivity

Is my opinion dressed in memory’s clothes,
stitched from moments only I have known?
Tailored by time to fit just me
then off comes the high hat of certainty.
There’s objectivity still waiting to be found.

But where is it kept?
Is what I read untouched by bias,
or framed by pages I chose myself?
Is truth confined to ink and spine,
or hiding outside the lines?

Objectivity—what a slippery thing.

It’s like spring-cleaning the corners of the mind:
sweeping out judgment,
opening the windows wide
for new winds to wander in.
Clearing out fiction,
keeping the facts.

It’s like rolling a dice
and seeing only one face
but truth hides on every side,
even those out of view.
To be objective is to count them all.

For if my opinion
isn’t married to truth,
it’s just belief
and belief, alone, can bruise.
We may split on a hill
where each calls it “true,”
but your view is yours
and mine is mine too.