Tim is a sub-deacon, father of 3, teacher and homeschooler from Melbourne, Australia.
Your wisdom is evident in your
Faded jackets, your pages hallowed, yellowed
Like the skin of a heaven-preserved saint.
You are weary, tired of the world,
Tired of bearing the mantle of the prophet,
The mouthpiece of Cassandra,
Ignored, forgotten on an
Ignoble dusty shelf,
Tolerating others, infinitely inferior to you.
But I find you, pearls of great price.
I smooth your pages in gratitude like one does
The feathers of a sacrificial dove.
I let them flitter on my nose,
And I smell your incense;
The timeless dust of the ages,
The silent terror of the sibyl,
The fragrant breath of the words uttering,
The one, holy, unutterable Word.