Wednesday Riff: Open Book

Sometimes we open the book,
Take a stroll through the pages,
Weave between the words,
Take the hand of one or two phrases,
And sidestep some of the others.
Sometimes we open the book,
And find ourselves mirrored in the truth and facts,
Led forward by the parables and poetry.
Our lives, our struggles, our hopes and tears,
Right there in the bursts of laughter,
The smiles of friendship,
The broken-hearts and the wandering ways.
Sometimes we open the book,
And the words leap off the page,
And hug themselves to the depths of our being.
Sometimes the sentences seem cold and hard,
Hanging there like sharp, jagged icicles,
Posing tough questions, staring at us, hands on hips.
Sometimes it shakes you by the shoulder,
Sometimes it whispers in your ear.
Sometimes you wrestle, winning as you lose,
Sometimes you see yourself,
And are never quite the same again.
Some days we don’t open the book,
And some days we do.
Some days it waits on the shelf, gathering dust,
And some days it bursts open,
Irrepressible,
Spilling meaning, comfort, questions and inspiration.

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