Old Books: A Poem
I found myself in a lucky place
with a second chance. I’d been given grace.
I vowed to notice things much more,
understand the world, enquire, explore.
I threw myself into learning facts
the news, some views, on this and that.
ploughed on and on, new stuff I learned
but I felt incomplete every page I turned.
And then one day, on a cleaning binge
old books I found.
I felt a twinge.
I hadn’t read, for a time untold
those soothing works of masters old.
As I re-read those moving words,
about the trees, the sea, the birds,
about the men and women too
who faced tough times but soldiered through.
Something about them makes them last
these books that speak of distant pasts
I’ve realized they’d teach me more
about the world
these books of yore.
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