The Old Library

The air held the scent

of old paper

musky, fragile, and tactile

a mix of aged wood

and bitter ink.

The heavy weight of mahogany

clung to the walls

floor to ceiling

giving the illusion

that one had stepped into

a treasure chest.

leather chairs sprawled

across emerald carpets

like lazy dogs -

old, inviting, best friends.

The dimmed lights set the tone

soft yet full of secrets in corners.

Shelves were lined with decades of pearls

snippets of soul shared truths

gemstones of memories

and the gold of worlds yet to be known

treasure just waiting to be discovered.

My fingers thumbed the pages

of a blue bound beauty

edges gilded as if adorned with halos.

It felt familiar and yet

there was so much more to discover

with eyes that have begun to see.

I cuddled up with the dogs,

cracked open the spine of it

and began to drink in every word,

sipping slow the fine aged wine of the print.

Teleporting to another age

another time

another life

exhaling with joy

the peace that comes

with quiet literary indulgence