An old book possesses many scents. The arid moldering pages, the longing bite of spent oils and mysterious stains, the caressing warmth, near woodiness, of released redolence. A neglected and forgotten wisdom, a dust-collected inwardness tattered about creased edges. Each bears its own scent and character. Its own sorrows and simple joys. In short, its … More I Found Myself in “East of Eden.” You May Too.
Damnable I who forgetToo that all are adjoinedIn the fullest brillianceOf sundered stars andMarrow of common struggles The maw of whispered covenantsConsuming allThe keptwomen, concubines, and hustlersThe self-righteous, chaste, and piousDripping wet the tears, vitreousDown the ever-long, plain visages The poor and meek give credenceBut sidle no swayFor the intrepid capitalistWho both kiss the convulsionsAnd … More Between its arms
Be that of a votive candle Dancing in the air For a light has been lit within you By those no longer there Carry on the tender flame For your day too shall come When your flame can light another That recalls its forgotten hum
THE WAYFARER 