The Scholar

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I am a soft cover novel
There are riddles written on my skin
I wonder
as the wine flows
will you raise a toast
and cheers to the ghost of me

And in life’s moments of quiet reflection
I note
Each trepidatious goose bump
Sprouts a tiny feather
Each inquisitive curve in my brow
A creaking bow, pulling further back

Capacity stretched,
at times I strain for breath.
Life pulses, pressing hard against my sternum.
Teeth bared they smile and bend down
A whisper extended, a brazen vow to behold
this unfurling truth.

In the midst of all this happening,
I am unraveled
Yet i am bound
I am awash at sea, swimming in observation

I am learning.

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