THE SMELL OF A BOOKSTORE

The smell of a bookstore.
The enticing aroma.
It draws me inside.
Pulling me into its embrace.

Shelf after shelf of books.
Books that have one purpose.
To keep their words safe.
For someone, like me, to enjoy.

Sunlight streams in.
Highlighting the dust mites in the air.
I reach for a book.
Is this the best one for me?

Pages are rustling in the next aisle.
Other people are lost in their books.
Maybe I don't need to pick just one.
Endless possibilities. 

History, mystery, cooking,
Oh my!
What to choose?
Do I need to choose?

I feel like skipping down the block.
I leave the store with bags of books.
Eager to read them.
Eager to learn for them.
Life is good today.


 

WHAT DO YOU SEE?

WHAT DO YOU SEE?

The mind is complex.
It stores information.
It reasons.
But it’s also creative.
I see a butterfly and its shadow.
Did my reasoning or past data
tell me this?
No.
It was the creative part of my brain,
working on over-drive.
What do you see?