Books

As the world outside

Grows a darkening grey

I look to your pages

To spirit me away.

The smell of pressed paper

And the crack of the spine

Distracts from the heartache

And the social decline.

As I observe your markings,

I hallucinate a dream

Of fairness and justice

Unlike what I’ve seen.

The world all around me

Knocks hard at the door.

While I sit seeing visions

Of timelines galore.

Heroes and mermaids

A dragon that sings,

If only real life

Had more of these things.

With every printed word

And each ambiguous phrase

The ice of life melts

With the warmth of the day.

While hours pass me by

And the world becomes calm

My heart starts to heal

With your meaningful balm.

As night turns to light

And the birds start to sing

My body gives in

To that elusive “sleep” thing.

My eyes start to close

Since I’ve now found my peace.

For your art brought me comfort

And forced trauma to cease.

As my breaths start to slow

And grow deeper apart

You rest on me gently,

Right over my heart.