The Golden Tome

A white marble ascending spiral staircase

Surrounded by Grecian ruins

At the zenith exists a golden tome

Illuminated by the rays of the sunday

Steadily I begin to approach it

Coming to the podium where it rests

Boldly, I touch the book

Knowledge past and present pours into me

It is so overwhelming I take only a little

When my eyes reopen the book has disappeared

Nothing is left, save the sounds of nature

I bow in thanks before departure

Then I descend the staircase

Light surrounds me once more

I awake refreshed, renewed

Elated in this omen

Knowing my search for True Knowledge

Shall always be fruitful.

January 26, 2006