A book is like a scattered seed . . .
That falls upon a well ploughed ground
It sounds its living message, as I read
As it draws through me the inner life it calls
Its gifted words it buries in me deep . . .
Unknown their entry into the dark within;
In my heart, it has no knowledge of its abode
Only of its will to sow
itself a living seed in me
Poem from a Sequence:
A Rain of Booklight
Part 1 # 14
Part 1 # 14
(c) Judith Evans Deverell, 2014
The Bookmark Project
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