Waking with Socrates

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My hunger now to learn is deep and real,

much more than food could ever satisfy.

No dish or treat has quite the same appeal

It’s knowledge now that pulls and drives me high.

I never knew that Socrates once tread

The streets of Athens, living, breathing man.

I thought his name was something long since dead,

A way of thinking, not a human plan.

In Pompeii’s ruins, lives like ours appeared

They wrote, they traded, held their markets too.

And suddenly, it’s painfully clear and weird

How much I never took the time to do.

But now, at last, this hunger takes its place;

To search for meaning—fail, and still embrace.

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