The Student's Ode

Curiosity winds its way down cobbled paths, 

past rain-damp orange and yellow corridors. 

Framed by red brick and the heavy

“thump, thump, thump” of books on backs. 

 

We stretch like Prometheus stretched, 

backs arched, arms flexed in two directions

striving to connect earthly grit with skyward magic. 

Knowledge is the original sin. 

 

We are sinners, roiling about glossy pages

in glee and horror; would Socrates

have dreamt it better

than these tall buildings?

 

Confusion has never been such a privilege,

I stress of knowledge tests

while the burden of my ancestor’s

brilliance tilts my face up,

 

To stars and sun with wondering eyes, I sigh deep 

against the relentless mundane…

Open myself again to feel

the gift of original sin. 

 

Oh! That skyward magic!