That’s great for you, master poet,
Turning phrase on the potters wheel,
To declare your book’s greatness,
An orphaned gem from the muse.
I won’t dicker down your leaves,
Or deny the carat or the fine cut,
For we may be companions now
On your long completed journey.
Your map has been uncovered,
The vein that yields such treasure,
Beyond a vault wrought in credo
Lies but a leaf, a pen, and a mirror.
And now they’re mine.
-T. Weeks
(A response to “Shut Not Your Doors”)
Life Immense 