The Rising of the Tide

He finds himself surrounded and bound by countless books with eyes that stare and dare him to devour every morsel where he looks at words-paragraphs-and-pages perched on overburdened wooden planks throughout his mole hole of a bedroom, his sanctuary-den in which he lives, hides, thrives and gives thanks for the restless urge of writing yet finding reading more enticing as the battle of his ageing raging mind ensues, like two lovers dancing in the dark, each hoping to make their mark before the night is through. “Theology” by Sheed, is what he thinks he needs but Socrates and Greek mythology have keenly caught his eyes, before touching any titles however, he pauses briefly to wonder why: Why not a little Shakespeare, some Dickinson or Thoreau, why not give astronomy, cosmology or psychology a go? But then what of Tolkien's "Hobbit" and "Fellowship of the Ring;" "The Lost History of Christianity" and Buddhism could make him sing. Reading has a way of opening his mind but he can't seem to think away the urge to write against the rising of the tide as he picks up his pen and his fingers begin to fly.