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.
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