Never enough

Never enough

On the kitchen table there is no place to eat

only space to study,

there is only hunger to know.

I was seven one day when my grandma

swept them all from the table to the floor

frustrated with me

because she wanted to set it for lunch.

The more I learn, the more I see how little I know,

the more I need to learn.

I have this thirst to drink knowledge

that is unquenchable,

never enough.

All those books, all that time,

all those questions answered,

and then more questions asked.

On the spine of a book

I have travelled to countries, religions and cultures,

in the pages of a book

I have dived into the depths of things,

I have learned to cook,

I have learned to play games,

I have learned about plants,

and people and animals,

languages and poetry,

and so much more.

I don't know when is enough.

Meanwhile there are books on the table,

on the floor,

in the bathroom,

in the bookcase,

in the nightstands,

in the car,

on the sofa,

and another in my hand.