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
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