I search for you but i can’t find you
i looked and a glimpse couldn’t see
you keep eluding me.
Where art thou, o fair maiden?
You who bestows the gifts of words to men of
and oratory to men of learning and understanding.
Sitting in the dark, i pant for your light;
thirsty i am, and long to be filled by the sweet
waters from your lips.
Empty am i when you leave me
unschooled am i without your tutelage
useless unless you enrich me.
Teach me that i might others teach,
fill me, that i might bestow unto others of the
inspire me and let me others ignite.
Giver of words, inspirer of men
where…. art… thou?