All those old Saints and
Heroes
They are the chorus of my sorrows

Wish I could see them in dreams
Virgil and Aeneid
Homer and Ullyses
Achilles and Thetis

Watching me
Hoping
Wincing at my pain
Hearts soaring with my joys
(I would like to meet you in the garden
Augustine)

Sit with Socrates and Plato
And then away with my rowdy friends
Chaucer and company,
take pilgrimage
just for the food and drink
and tales of debauchery


Books mean nothing you say
empty peices of paper for degrees
who says I'm smart anyway?
the academy plays there games
Handing out B+'s and A's

But you my love
(you know how to enter my soul
you can read those books too
and understand the French philosphers with
your mountain lion mind

know matter what anyone says or
no matter what you think or do

(time knows that you are
mine)