The rustle of turning pages cut the silence
Richest sound about absorbing literature
Lost outside the distracted mind's district
Treasures leather-bound in shelves of plenty
Simple single copies of no defined value
A treasure nonethless, despite some wooden binding
Imprinted wisdom leaves a smell on any page
Whether white or brownish yellow, almost torn
Or still drying ink unveiling a mystery's
Secret content packed into paragraphs and pages
Into single words and phrases, into letters
Drawing clearer lines on the inner canvas' imprint
Increasing knowledge through communicative inter-linking;
Cell - information - cell: the important process.
II.
Belief based on books
Collection of sorted thoughts
Clarified through words
Through ink
Reflection requires no immense intelligence;
Destination: birthplace of new thoughts
III.
Once written words were portrayals of holiness
Devoid of contemplation about a 'where-from?'
Designers they are, both reader and writer
(Whereas the latter not the Creator himself is)
Constructions formed by human hand lack divinity
Lack perfection, lack completeness
Touch of mind - kiss of life - blew the set form.
Nonetheless, believes bear on ancient transcripts
Preach the wisdom and the view depicted
Perhaps only sages are shadowed by doubt
(Although anyone is blessed with the ability
To find their own truth) -- But then:
Only Questioners question, in search for the truth
They make admit the truth they want to hear