Poetry

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These eyes

Lit with wisdom learned

From years

Or wisdom of the years

compressed, as it were

in mighty gasps

Upon me laid

In measures full

Of pain like daggers

Silent in my heart

Of thoughts in silence

Contemplation

Of the great universe

Of deeper joys known

Sober joys

Like springs more flowing

Than flashing fountains

But

Lighter

Deeper

Soberer

I must go

The edge of wisdom

Is the sharpness of thin air

On the side

Of this mountain I must climb

More to be seen by

And seen in

These eyes

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