It is amazing…oftentimes to our wonder and delight…sometimes to our dismay
how we are the authors of our fairytales…the protagonists in our play.
How ‘neath the different colors of our covers…
we…as author…or playwright
in a multitude of languages…complete a chapter every night.
Our parents compose the first few chapters until such a time as when
our fairytale gets interesting…and we control the pen.
For we find when our story crisscrosses other stories…other places…other names
how, though our stories share similar moments…no two stories are the same.
The beauty of our fairytale is how every day it lengthens and expands
meaning no matter what we wrote the day before…the next chapter is in our hands.
Over time we find our spines may sag a little…our covers start to fade
our pages may discolor…our binding become frayed.
but, despite the inevitable ravages of time which on every book will take its toll,
we hope our fairy tale will have a happy ending and never lose its heart…and soul.
Besides, anyone who’s wise…any bibliophile…or book lover
knows it’s never a good idea to judge a book…based solely on its cover.
knows every story’s different…how life seldom goes the way we planned
how every book has value…and how NO book should ever be banned.
I suppose the best we can hope for is to learn from our mistakes
and hope, in our book, they’re never repeated…
and that people will smile as they read our chapters…
and…once our fairy tale is completed.
No comments:
Post a Comment