the knower

shadowed. a slight lisp of patience.

but gifting, spoiling- a job worth waiting for... in the bureau, in the behind.

protecting of the sensitive elements destroyed by common momentum. attention lacking, gaps filled; but not too much. or maybe so.

at a time when his charges are bewildered by their own floods, minds aswirl, intensely saturate wonder and amazement... he must not over do what he is meant to do. he cannot.

lost in a never-ended fringe of bittersweet segment, he stirs the air of discovery and imagination for all his charges. he is not discriminate. but he cannot accommodate more than he is allowed. he would like to. he would like to stir the air wildly to create whirlpools that catch the depths of all understanding. but he cannot.
few find his air. and slowly. and one-by-one. and heartbreakingly so. and with his position firmly anchored. he watches the many and all that leave his influence. most with no taking gift, and others few with frail remnants.