First Day of College

The syllabus was likely to arouse vain sentiments of a nobility he never felt before. Eight o'clock on Monday morning, books and pencils not yet burdensome, and down the hall, the classroom where he hoped to be inspired, would seize his body and his mind and shake them, make them scorn the adolescent scampering and he still not aware. How dare the prof presume to teach him how to take his notes... how to detect his nakedness So much for sociology-- so much he did not see! And that is what it was to be, the years to dawn aware of cavities, not knowledge, wisdom just to contemplate in awe, nor in presumption dress... yet late that night six tender new-born men will sit together in a tiny room and speak of Rabelais and Eckhart, unconcerned about a rest, surrendered to the looming day. ~