Words After Breakfast

Each morning, he would 

reach for his Book of Truths, read aloud; 

His unwavering conviction riding 

The waves of holy words, surfing

Against the sounds of silence

Assaulting the mind, salting my soul

With the terror of not knowing.

That crucible of fear, where

Attentiveness to his efforts was proved

By recollection of some slip of text, detached

From context, meaning, reason

Taught a fateful form

Impressing neural pathways  

Into the service of arrogance

And ignorant proclamation.

The rooted fear of being revealed

empty mouthed in the fateful moment

Needing to recall, to know, to have an answer

Inhibits inquiry and learning

Stimulates impassioned waves of novel holy words, 

Unmindful to the central truth––

Isn’t asking always better than most telling?

 © Philip Knight 2018