The Lesson of the Master

I tried to express myself like you, Your style, rhythm, sense Of pace and form, which floated From the page with every piece I read. It seemed your language was like A drug, that filled each recess Of my inner self, made me understand I was now in a higher state of being. Each word, every inflection, each Observation transported me On a flowing river, sometimes quickly Sometimes gently and, unfailingly, Carried me to the sea of knowledge. I knew I hadn't always grasped, Your meaning, your intentions, And had to save your wisdom For another time, when, with a Maturer mind I could fathom That which you had imparted. But who are you; as others know, You passed away a long time ago, And I, a mere journeyman, Hopefully, carries within me the Spirit of your voice, inside of mine.