Drown My Book Poem by Linda Hepner

The end of weary years comes to me soon
and I have filled the seconds with connections,
just to make some sense of sun or moon,
philosophies and wars and some rejections,

made to edit themes of our convictions,
all swept away by scientific thinking,
the magic gone, the Book some scribbled fictions,
the Wand without its power, now all sinking

into the fathoms of the boundless sea,
where water cannot quench the primal fire.
Here will I drown my book and cast my key,
then when my soul subsides, I shall retire.