Books, Not Yet Catalogued

And Blogspot's eccentricities -- not yet understood


Mack Hall, HSG
mhall46184@aol.com

Books, Not Yet Catalogued

One’s books are comforting: those untidy
Shelves, stacks, piles, heaps of books extend one’s soul
Beyond the self-absorption of the now
That never existed and never will.
Poor books!  They are but paper, glue, and ink,
Transient carriers of transcendence,
Small mortal things that burn, decay, and fall
Into disuse, and are seemingly lost,
Poor beasts of burden, but -- so too are men,
Both bearing messages and messengers,
Both crying, “Look!  Life is a pilgrimage
Beyond the stars within a silver cup
This side of summer leaves that sing the dawn
Even before midnight lightens the seas,
So travel light, you won’t be here for long;
You must arise, you must pull on your boots
And sling your pack, and oh! be on your way!”