In a past that is not mine
Where life is still…for now
I felt as if i was walking through time...

The building is empty
Few tall windows with a view are open
It does not make any difference in those long corridors
When heat remains more than a wave

My footsteps are slow
Suggestive of accepted wisdom
In tune with the personality of my uncle
I am sure those walls from the past would agree

The students are busy learning life
Devoid of pressure for exams
Fleeting impression of freedom and eternity
Summer is here

My uncle learned things between these old walls
In his younger years
Against his will
This is where religion was imposed on him

In such a beautiful place
Is where they use to train and accompany
Malleable minds into a form of spirituality
He was convinced he needed to become a catholic priest

At a snail's pace
Wandering in empty walkways
Disrupted by quiet footsteps
Mine

I am unsure if he took pleasure in
Contemplating and feeling
The light and shadows I saw
I am almost convinced he did but… I will never know.

Each step I make
A reverence and a deeper passage in time
An attempt to recollect memories and thoughts
That are not mine

I have no doubt
I am walking
In some of his footsteps
Quite a strange emotion

For a while longer
I will enjoy the notion of serenity
Immersed in this instant
of still life

Wishing I can continue this exploration
At La Sorbonne, where he perfected his art of erudition
Unaware of the footprints
He left on and with me

Merci oncle Ernest…
* * *
(weekly challenge: Still life)
(SP: reflection in plexi-glass banister)