One of my favorite people here, at TTU, is Dr. Miller. He's been my "boss" for 5 of my 6 semesters here. He was also my professor while taking Humanities during my 2nd year here. He's an amazing person and a character all his own. There's no way I can help you "know" him...you just have to experience him on a daily basis, which I have had the delightful, luxury of doing for 2.5 yrs now. He has increased my wisdom, intellect, sense of humor and artistic life by an immeasurable quantity and quality when he shared(s) with me his wisdom, intellect, sense of humor and artistic ability.

One of the many things which I count myself blessed for...is knowing Dr. Miller. Aside from being my boss and professor...he has been my friend these 2.5 yrs.

That said, Dr. Miller just walk into my office and said, "I know you're artistic. Do you like poetry?" as he handed me a piece of paper with a cheshire grin on his face. A little small talk was passed as he explained he had just found it and "if I remember correctly" wrote it about 10 yrs ago, for "some unknown reason". Here's the poem:

The Literal Advantage

Though it's impossible to know everything,

the literalist knows that everything

in the Bible is literally true.

No wrestling with mysterious metaphors,

no wrangling with subtle symbols,

amphibological allegories, mangled manuscripts,

laborious languages, and

translation travesties.

Armed with the

obvious

literal

straight-forward

plain meaning

of the words,

the literalist end where he began,

reaching conclusions he started with,

possessed of knowledge that's

as secure as

a string tied to air isn't.

With perfect aplomb

the literalist lets go

childish things,

because he can't get to heaven

unless he becomes like a child.

And he knows that God never sleeps,

because God awakens to

The evil deeds of evil men.

Logic need not dawn on the literalist,

just as the sun needed not to

dawn on the first days of creation.

How like child's play

to the grooves of mind and

to the habits of thought and

to the furniture of the soul

to have no need of light.

Just don't tell a literalist.

Let me ask you, as he just did me, "Are you a literalist?"