Sense of bliss

The doors open and steps are taken. Into this magical room where there is endless knowledge; where no words are spoken. The senses are engaged, with the feeling of each spine; leather, paper, cloth. The new and the old are placed side by side, but the eyes can't see the difference. The aroma of the old and the crack of the new as you fan through the pages. The walls are lined with the books, that can be felt but not heard. While Classical Piano is the only noise that accompanies them; Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. Easy is it to embrace their call. Each one holding not just a story, but an entire world. Thousands of places to go, without ever leaving this utopia. There is no ticking of a clock, for time does not really exist. The sun changes the hue of the pages from yellow to orange, the only indication of any passing. Even when there is no light, but for the silver crescent hanging in the sky and the light of the night trying to break through the darkness in a million places, the lamp clicks on and the words reappear before your eyes; As if they never left.

Author's Note

Any feedback is welcome

Reviews

[Blogger]

Sounds like a great place to visit...and to stay there!! :0)

[Roger Turgeon]

I see you have the same affection for books as my friend who is compelled to kneel and bless himself whenever passing a library. I do like the image of the words reappearing as if they never left when the light goes on.

[Katho28]

Absolutely beautiful sensory imagery; beautiful words, soft and mellow, truly does leave me in a lingering sense of bliss. Well done!