Lost for learning

The library has never been defined by mortar
of its walls, not by windows, doors or ceilings
or even secrets inked in code and hidden
in the seventh basement further down below,

The library is neither secret nor bewitched,
but still there is no map to guide you
through the maze of dusty Dewey decimals,
no thought to steer you through its stairs
and corridors to answer questions
that you always will forget before you find
the book you came to find but cannot read,
and if you ask the aged librarian,
he shares a cup of tea, a ginger biscuit
and as mumbles guidance gently,
talking with abandoned words
that visitors before have left behind,
you understand that search for knowledge
is a random journey, circles drawn in sand.

The library is vague and lucid
it’s poetry and prose, it’s daylit dreamscape
and a sleepless night;
a prison but the outside world
seems lesser than the vastness of its verse,
and once you left you always search for
legit reasons and a purpose to return.

Linking to Open Link Night at dVerse where Lilian hosts tonight.

November 14, 2019

19 responses to “Lost for learning

  1. Loving this idea
    “but the outside world
    seems lesser than the vastness of its verse,”
    I do always look forward to meeting the aged librarian…and would most definitely enjoy a ginger biscuit and tea with him! 🙂

  2. “but the outside world
    seems lesser than the vastness of its verse,”…I find this to be true of all libraries, no matter the size. A solemn picture of the aged librarian today. I’ll take the ginger cookie but leave the tea.

  3. Oh this is incredibly gorgeous, Bjorn! ❤️ Love the alliteration in “the maze of dusty Dewey decimals.” 😀

  4. That reminds me how I feel when I am trying to learn something new:
    “and corridors to answer questions
    that you always will forget before you find
    the book you came to find but cannot read,”

  5. I love all your poems about the librarian. I especially like, “Become one of many filaments
    that spark awareness,” and “through the maze of dusty Dewey decimals,” in this one. This is a story woven with a little magic and dustiness of worn books left to linger.

  6. “talking with abandoned words
    that visitors before have left behind”

    a great air of mystery to this Bjorn, a feeling of things left unsaid!

  7. I know quite a few librarians from my work at local libraries, but your aged librarian is my favourite by far, Björn. I love that the ‘library has never been defined by mortar’ and the mystery of ‘the maze of dusty Dewey decimals’. I’ve often shared a cup of tea and a biscuit with a librarian – although I don’t know if they ever talked ‘with abandoned words that visitors before have left behind’! And I know that feeling when ‘the outside world seems lesser than the vastness of its verse’.

  8. “a prison but the outside world
    seems lesser than the vastness of its verse,”

    so true. it is trap filled with many worlds created my words weaved. how creative, Bjorn.

  9. I love these old libraries where you can get lost and want to return to time and time again. Beautifully written Björn, I especially love ‘the outside world seems lesser than the vastness of its verse’

  10. I love libraries, and this line: “but the outside world
    seems lesser than the vastness of its verse,” rings so true.
    I can picture this place so well in your poem, and the ancient librarian, too. I feel like I’ve journeyed here.

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