The sages

I will continue
To read the sages,
The nectar
They drizzled
Upon the pages;
Theirs is a honey
For the Ages
Stains for many,
Stilted and painted;
But I’m not pained
Or jaded,
Their words
Are the wages
Which dressed
My wounds,
Bound
My death,
and
Hastened
My birth
Under
A harvest
moon.