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One Of My First Metaphors At Its Source
At my college's library,
which occupied a full three floors
beneath the Chapel, centerpiece to the campus:
I went to those floors every
afternoon or evening from my first, freshman week,
not just to escape the mundane world
but because
most of the women who studied there
took off their shoes like a matter of habit.
Clad in jeans, sweatpants, or some other style of slacks,
they relaxed in high-backed chairs or walk about
barefoot, or wearing a variety of socks
(various colors, patterns, lengths);
they even visited their bathrooms without putting shoes back on.
On the lowest of the three floors,
the books of poetry and astronomy were stored.
Poetry, astronomy, and all these beautiful women---
having slid or wiggled out out of the confines of shoes---
and above all that, the great arches of the chapel
(deisgned to llok like a Gothic Cathedral)
soared skyward (starward?)
as the Gospel of Christ was preached.
Only a dunce of epic distortion
could have missed that kind of metaphor.
