For a man who communed
with Gods and Greecian muses,
I did not expect the carpet pattern vest.
Nor the velvet coat complete by
slightly darker elbow coverings.
I did, however, expect the tobacco pipe.

I was happy to sit amongst
speckeled llanolium and white walls
mystified by Heidegger, Hegel, Rilke
mere mortals like me
who saw an abyss and chose it—
unearthing a second skin.

Despite the fluorescent buzzing
at least in solidarity,
I learned to enjoy bitter coffee
inbetween Sartre, and Camus
busy building the world word by word.

In hindsight, no greater mercy
was the seige you placed in my heart;
that I could not live to love wisdom
without first being wise.

I can only thank you now
For time handed to me,
an errant child scorning ancient histories.
For the patience needed to see
the artist, not the scholar
seeking creation beyond the craft.
breathing deep the cold marble
Looking not just for reason
but for the art—
in reason.

© Fae Hilscher