Putting an essay in Georgia font is like dressing it in Banana Republic clothes.
Check out this creative-nonfiction photo-journal post of mine. It’s about a girl and a thousand books:)
Saturday afternoon. No one’s here.
Only a girl and a thousand books.
No one is here…no one sees her as she runs through the book-lined cases.
No one observes the laughter.
No one sees her peering through the shelves
like a small child
peering into a secret world
peering into fantasy.
No one comes down the steps into the basement.
No one comes down the steps into the thick yet subtle
waters of old-bound hardbacks, fresh new paperbacks.
In the place without sound
No one but the girl hears the words shout.
No one but the girl walks through and touches the empty spaces.
Not all of her finds them beautiful
Not all of her finds them tragic.
A girl peers through the book-lined cases
Surrounded by laughter, shouting words, fantasy,
Surrounded by waters of old-bound hardbacks, fresh new paperbacks,
Surrounded by the empty spaces – beautiful…
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as a swallow may I love Thee
as a swallow may I trust
as a swallow may I count Thee
my chief Joy and my Hush
All of our shoes have laces
All of our thoughts have fears
All of our clothes have faces
We’ve been hiding in them for years.
What a tender, sacred thing:
My thoughts fly, Beloved, to Thee
As a swallow flies to her nest
As a swallow flies to her refuge, her home, her most tender rest.
May all of my prayers
– like postcards –
Make You smile.
My Love, my Own, my Beloved
incomprehensible to me
is this truth:
You Who formed and saved my soul
Are the life-breath air I breathe.
We are only blind in love’s counterfeit:
Love is sight.
(Try to) unstate
But never – in any state of mind –
Do we state something.