The Guardian

Endless steps like ticking seconds of a clock
infinite hours
Steps and staircases in a spiderweb’s tangled maze
Paths for getting lost and being found
The deep breath of a corridor blows out the light of one candle, another ignites
another time, another place
Infinite stories flow through my stairs, my shelves
The blood in my veins
Pieces and memories of life and love as old as time itself
by watchful eyes and soft feathers
Books upon books and keys on chains
with secrets and stories of their own
unlocking every lock
every heart, every burden
A safe place
Birds flying, my jet black feathery fleeting thoughts
I am the floorboards
the creak of wooden stairs, the soft light, every particle of dust in the air
A library as old as time itself
Books and keys of all life’s treasures
They keep me alive
and I them

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