An Ode to Libraries

An Ode to Libraries
It is some sort of hallowed ground: this building of hushed voices and shelves of learning. The inscribed knowledge is neatly organized, open to all. But I am an intruder. I aim not to shatter the peace, the glass shards exploding outward to lay at my feet.

I dare not breathe nor speak too loudly. Let me be silent, my footsteps as fluid as my shadow, my presence as unobtrusive as the premature falling of leaves.

An intersection of the past, the present, and the future, this library is my sanctuary, where time meets and stops. I am granted asylum from the buzzing of everyday life, and I savor this type of peace, tasting it in my mouth, tapping it out on my thigh, breathing it all in.

Is this happiness or something more?

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