It was the memorial day,
when I ridden with guilt
go and visit them again,
Laid to rest in stacks upon racks wide,
I take them up in my arms,
carry them like flowers tender;
make a fine bed out of them,
I turn the thickest under my grip
into pillows beneath my head,
and lay on top of them, all content,
as I breathe in that scent of comfort!

It was one of those moments,
when content-ness turned to contention
in a sudden motion, deep within myself,
I admonish myself yet again,
for being such a bad friend
to the people on those pages
nestled between hard bound leather,
only wanting to alleviate boredom,
ensnare and entertain the mind,
so I brazenly break that tower of books,
picking up the first one to fall!

As I look up from the book,
I see the sun has set and
the night has come around,
Time was on stand- still
and a breeze blew hither and thither,
whispering things like it was known to,
in a furtive language, secretive and mystic,
it kept talking and talking until
I learnt of its dreams and its' hopes for me,
why it had kept me up all those nights
before, when the world was smaller and could be held in my pair of palms!


It kept saying- Carpe Librum...
Seize these words, for they make you,
Seize the book, to become all you can be!
*****

PS: International day of Books and Copyright special!
© the_acataleptic