Henry, the keeper of journals,
six thousand pages worth in his lifetime,
never worshiped, never voted, never plundered
probably never won any popularity contest
as the flaunting of his self-reliance
stirred up envy in his detractors
who struggled in their jobs to do the same
Henry nonetheless, was no hermit
as he made his daily trips into town
to partake in the village camaraderie;
albeit balancing with time in the woods
where frescoed paths through the wild world
seemed to him best tread in solitude
remaining ever alert to perpetual secrets,
marveled at! then taken home in his journals
Henry unabashedly passed on his secrets
in savy tomes that make us feel
we’ve walked those paths ourselves
@ j.Flaherty 2016
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