The Library Of All Things Temporary. Poem by Leah Ayliffe
The Library Of All Things Temporary.
In the dust that's floating
Silent while the sun finds a way through the window
Gold rays, soft and kind in late afternoon
Dreamy in slow motion is dust suspended
Dancing in the spotlight of heaven
Those are where our thoughts drift, winged,
Within and without the slow fall of dust
Just before the shade of an old bookshelf
Where happiness and melancholy mix in an air tango
Remembering each other as souls in love
Sunshine pays homage to that which is forgotten
The library of all things temporary
Beautiful like the dead air of dust.
Remembering is how we know who we are. Also, how we know that we are. Then we perceive another: who and that they are. Each coming into being, going out of being. To which mystery this library of all things temporary is a deep and sensitive metaphor. As the poet says, when you find yourself there, its books are full of sorrows, its aroma is the fragrance of love. Both stay fresh in its pages.
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4/25/2024 9:53:30 PM # 1.0.0.1119
The atmosphere is nicely set, You paint nostalgia like a pro, We never know where thoughts will go Nor what will spike their inner flow. This poem is beautifully done. Images transmit feelings Past remembering and Present come together, and the magic is spun.