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.
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