“books”

there’s a cascading fall that runs the wild glen
with effortless movement it so captures the eyes
like a soul soothing salve to the enemy within

and there are monsters that roam
in the wild lonely-ness…
though seldom they are seen
for they live in the darkness
like sounds from the distance
their only home found in dreams

down in the valley
the ash rises in heat
over fires that burn like a cold stolen thing

for we are the embers that glow in the night
we are friends with the fireflies
and we love how they dance
in a rhythm chaotic
as if they know something more
something distant, unseen
like words on a page
that disappear from our sight
leaving only traces of the morning
pure, clean and bright

and if only one day i should find them
those lines on a tree
i shall commit them to memory
so they should never be lost

for we owe that much to them
as they conjured our dreams
and they filled our shelves
only asking that sometimes
we blow dust from their covers
and take them to bed
so that once more they may open
a window unto this world
and rest ever gently
in our arms, by our side
longed for and remembered
cherished and clean

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 7/31/13

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