Tell Us Your Story: "A Novel's Novelty"

Finalist 11 of 14

I book a bookish barge to rescue me from tempests of the day,
On rhythmic ripples of wordy waves that keep but silent for a rustled voice,
But if I listen keenly, new shores I do sight without delay,
And the harbor for my fantasies is always, quite some novel choice.

My listening then turns inward, like the Buddha's, in a meditative state of mind,
Showing me earlier lives at every turn as a doctor or Olympian,
But karma wasn't why they're blind¹, rather, they let their humanity shine,
They were sightless seers in their day and role models for all today; each a champion.

Though all sunny seasons imagined on wintery nights must give way to extremity,
Though time robs minutes from my reading and reverie with other cares,
To dream is not a timely liability, and blindness isn't a true disability,
And my moments of muse aren't compassed by time thanks to the care of people at Book-share.²

So in a feverish, fluttering flurry I'll read much more than I otherwise can, because I can,
So with a vision of them in me and me in them, I'll have high hopes of where I should stand

¹ At the time this was composed, I was primarily reading biographies and memoirs about icons of the blind community.

² A hyphen is added to accent the second syllable for the rhyme.

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