Observations of life through the eyes of a poet, and the heart of a hippie.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

my Sanctuary

upon entering your doors, I inhale deeply

breathing in the smell of paper, ink, the glue of bindings

at once I am at home and lost

unable to decide where to begin my quest

within your vast walls of knowledge

I want to learn Italian, ancient ceremonies,

the name of the flowering tree in the park,

how to use my new camera, new vegetarian dishes,

the type of hawk that circles above my woods

hours slip by unnoticed as I drift between shelves

often sprawling out in the floor with my treasures

trying in vain to decide what I cannot leave without

choosing carefully the nourishment for my mind and soul

I leave with a sigh of satisfaction and regret

hurrying home with a feast as large as my arms can carry

already plotting the course of my next escape

first published on www.strondes.com in September 2005

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