The Path up and down is one and the same.
~Heraclitus~*

Through dusty books,
pages as brittle as peanut candy,
I search for wisdom
among the Greeks;
question the meaning of life.

On distant shelves,
among cobwebs and boewevils,
fiery sagas shadow
the lives of lustful Gods,
tribulations of mortals
and destructions of nations
once as powerful as the Gods
they worshiped.

I diligently catalogue:
fill page after page
with lore and legend,
trace paths of ancient ones ~
their bones telling tales~
until I realize nothing has changed.

I too spin tales,
yarn of sagas rich as the Greeks,
worship Gods and muses,
like my own broken-spirited muse,
a Simberg angel.

Someday, I will join weavers of old,
and searchers of knowledge
will dust away webs of my tales
and realize that I am but one,
and yet, the same.