Thursday, October 27, 2011


Look up.
Do you feel the pressure of a gaze on your back?
Look up and you might see him--no, don't bother standing,
You're just fine where you are.
Look up,
Raise your eyes to his, see
The one eye, bright blue, the other long-lost, covered by a worn felted patch.
His face a map of  laugh lines, worry lines, weather lines.
He's smiling, he always is, it seems.
Are you wary? So is he,
Wanderer of the Nine Worlds, perpetual seeker of Wisdom
in the wild Scandinavian night.
Would you too seek Wisdom?  Would you too pay its price?
It's not cheap, I will warn you, but you're before him already.
All it takes is one movement, one moment of truth.
Look up.

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