To the Praise of Everyman

As Dante passed through the woods of the world,

He met the man of whom stories were told,

Virgil, he was, in the days of his life,

Yet in death, he wandered with shades who were rife.

To guide young Dante on paths that are right,

Was the mission of lonely Virgil that night.

He met the man and took up his hand,

And guided him, led him, to the Great Promised Land,

Yet who was with Virgil to guide him in Death?

To comfort him in times of Distress?

Did ever he cry alone in the Abyss?

And ponder his state in the world of Iblis?

I wonder these things alone in my room,

And think I'd like to meet with him soon,

Yet the Aenid is all I have of this soul,

Before he departed and went to Hell's door.

Grateful am I for pen and paper,

For it gives me a chance to commune with the Maker,

Not god in the sense of Priests and Popes,

But rather the Poet, who always brought hope.

****************************************************

I remember I bought an old copy of Virgil's Aeneid from a used bookseller. The copy was tattered and torn, but the inscription always made me feel loved:

"Every Man, I will go with thee,

To be Thy Guide,

In Thy Most Need, To Go By Thy Side."