In memory of a mentor

A cigar in one hand

a good book in the other.

A mysterious confidence

-a teleological aspiration of my youth-

To which only cultivated

words of wisdom,

only existential pillars of conviction,

could coat a mortal heart thereof.

Whose work gave immanence

to the eternal romance

of a thousand yesteryears,

the silk fabric of history,

the rarely confronted

fastenings of philosophy.

What a mental universe

has given mine

could not erode

even with the unwavering winds

of time.