Inside this old library

I wrote this for an assignment asking to tell a story under 100 words in the first and third person

1. First person 

They sing to me.  

Inside this old library, the manuscripts of human nature consume me. Shakespeare, Whitman, Poe; my mind, waltzes through the crisp inks, gliding with the letters through their melody. The silent written word holds more power than man’s uncensored rambles. Literature does not attack, it invites.  Paragraphs and stanzas nurture my imagination: untouched, unrestrained, and limitless. They serenade my senses, awakening its purest forms. I close my eyes. The pen - a passionate man’s drug - connecting my mind and my body, calls for my soul.  Inside this old library: inspiration.

2. Third Person 

“W.J.” He signs it plain and simple. Castles built and worlds explored, the writer makes love to the words.  Pen, paper, and master: at one. In the quiet of his library, he transfuses his emotions onto new concrete realities.  The crackling from the fireplace sings away rationality. Surrounded by the works of his teachers, he writes carelessly. Spirit running free from judgment.  Through his lyrics the young find wisdom, the old find bliss. Calm, reserved; His mind is a mystery, his work a treasure.  

I am you

for my mom . 

Dusk: awake.

Green eyes (like mine): conscious.

Fighting through membraned curtains,

Reason steals her from Dream.

Groundhog tricks Hope,

calling Routine to its chores.

Day: reflect.

Pensive mind (like mine): flows.

Body- untrue to the self-

forgets the grace of its dance.

Needles stretch the crevasses of the past,

seconds move faster than forewarned.

Dawn: inhale.

Tall figure (like mine): tired.

Distant laughing innocence,

the offspring carry her soul.

Time falls through memory’s web.

Eternity discovers the owner’s heart. Serenity.

Once in a city

Time stands.

Within his arms - the world.

Children walking; Sharing secrets

Begging darkness to hide the city

Let time stand

My mind discovering yours,

Labyrinth of past future present

Fears explained.

Don’t let go.

Let time stand.

Aimlessly wonder; The buildings blur

The Outline of you

What is it like to breathe

Within your skin

Let time stand.

Begging the sun

to never complete its orbit

Let me show you what its like to breathe

within my skin.

Around a corner…Time. 

Gone. 

Laura

Laura and I are two years and nine months apart. Growing up I saw those two years and nine months as the fine line that separated my mature, sophisticated and very adult world from Laura’s. The childish, innocent, and  sloppy bubble of happiness.  I was mimicked, copied, pick the verb, Laura and I looked the same talked the same, and quite often acted the same

             But even though I saw my mirrored self in Laura’s actions I could still see that my shadow was unique, and if looked at from a different angle, a perspective other than my own perhaps, she didn’t look like a shadow at all.

            I look at you today from that other angle.  I see you as the unique, beautiful person that you are and I just wanted to say Thank you. Thank you for being a part of not  so much  my shadow...but part of my light.