Ode To My Books

quiet joy The silent pleasure Freeing peace You saved me From the world You saved me When I was alone you were there When I was lost you were my map When I was afraid I looked to you Your stories gave me hope Your rough spine Stitching standing out along the line Hardcovers which edges have been rubbed smooth with use Cardboard doors to a fleeting universe Paper thin paper Crisp a first Then over time they fold Become the billowing sheets on which we rest our mind Glistening words Inked with care Reach out to pull you in To keep you trapped within its grasp Oh books How can I ever repay you? What payment can be given to that Which shapes our lives? How many things Do I love because of you? How much of me Was born from your pages? You were my sanctuary My palace in the sky My land of which I alone could explore Now I wish I could continue your gift But can I? Can your gift become mine? Can I become the one To share the worlds within our world? You shaped the world I walk upon There could be no greater pleasure To become The paver of worlds For every time I forget myself I find myself In you And that is a gift the gods could not provide But maybe I could provide it Maybe the next time the world falls I would be the one To write my way out