The Book of Life
I read my life like a book,
Page by page
Line by line
Word by word
There you were one day,
a whisper among the lines
At first, a fleeting note
I feared you'd be
How I yearned to pause that page
To stretch that moment beyond its cage.
I thought you'd be just a line,
A memory lost in folds of time,
Like a feather once caught on the breeze,
Tucked with care among autumn leaves
Yet here I realize,
That you are the very ink
That writes the rest of my story,
The heart of my unfolding book.
The constant word of my ever growing story.