His library is ripe with voices;
within each book
there are calls for action; calls to wait;
commands for war and pleas for peace.
Never silent (resilient)
books are pain and pleasure;
books are tinnitus and songs.
They are euphony and cacophony; they are him:
the aged librarian
believer of the dust;
keeper of the soil and paper;
ink; he’s a sentinel of dreams;
and when the floodgates open and sense of voices
torn to fragments, books are screams.
Cause when Atlantis crumble
the library is him, and he is library forlorn.
Brendan is asking us to let our voices free at toads. As my voice has become that of the aged librarian I tried to find his voice as he is waiting for Atlantis to crumble. I will also link this to Poetry Pantry tomorrow.
January 21, 2017