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The simplest of books is where you will find,
Among them, some tattered sheets;
A thin little thing that holds stories
long gone by,
And keeps safe the words and worlds
that we forgot.
It is made of either paper or leather,
Or sometimes a fine strip of silk;
This place marker lay betwixt each line
And stayed still among so many other words.
In the middle of it there is an
overlapping point,
There are promises made in a whisper
not aloud.
That we would go back again
Into the story’s imagination and
submit ourselves completely.
Lines blurred with journeys made,
Labeled late nights, characters dear,
Entwine like us in life.
Bookmark, our guide,
A faithful friend in bound disguise,
A treasure found in the simplest
of things.
© Simrans
Among them, some tattered sheets;
A thin little thing that holds stories
long gone by,
And keeps safe the words and worlds
that we forgot.
It is made of either paper or leather,
Or sometimes a fine strip of silk;
This place marker lay betwixt each line
And stayed still among so many other words.
In the middle of it there is an
overlapping point,
There are promises made in a whisper
not aloud.
That we would go back again
Into the story’s imagination and
submit ourselves completely.
Lines blurred with journeys made,
Labeled late nights, characters dear,
Entwine like us in life.
Bookmark, our guide,
A faithful friend in bound disguise,
A treasure found in the simplest
of things.
© Simrans
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