Untitled

A grey, resigned and quiet man was there
Patient seated and lost of will perhaps
His hands the focus of his downcast stare
His ear alert for sounds of time's elapse.
There, where he sat, the others were before
Until their exit, soundless through the door.

At last he rose and through into the gloom
He passed anon and so I keenly sought
To glance within, to see into the room
A clue at least of what's inside, I thought
Alas no light beyond the threshold shone
Nor sound revealed where those before had gone.

The next upon the bench then took his place
And all along the wall caused to advance
Thus one by one we kept this languid pace
To see behind that portal there, perchance.
Ahead of me were seven souls, or eight
Behind were countless, silent in their wait.

Yet long it seemed before I pressed my hand
Against the worn and darkened timber door
What leap my heart gave when a hushed command
Bade "enter now and hurry, I implore".
So fretful, thrilling, quick I made my way
Into that sombre place, without delay.

Before me, as my sight fought to adjust
A warehouse vast, so deep and high and broad
Its crowded shelves ran distant through the dust
Ten thousand wide and up and up they soared
And each was filled with, (here did I exclaim!)
Untitled books and volumes with no name.

'A madness here', I thought it to myself
Each book unmarked, the same from first to last
None odd, not one unique on any shelf
In awe I stood, abject, entranced, aghast
'Til from silence, there came unto my ear
The voice which called "There is no madness here"

The one that spoke stayed still in shadows deep
In hooded cloak, the colours shade and dark
He seemed an aged guardian or keep,
Curator of this cavern cold and stark
"Initiate, approach and listen well
I'll speak not twice these laws I have to tell"

"Each book you see describes an earthly life
The vital path; a mortal's full account
Some teem with peace and some are fraught with strife
Some joys depict while others, grief recount.
However made the lives these books relate
You, soul, will feel of each its solemn weight"

"At every visit here you will pick out
Of all the volumes left, a single one,
Then live the life described within throughout
In human form, from birth 'til it is done.
And at the end, in death, the soul's set free
To join the line out there and wait for me"

"In life you'll know not me nor of this place
You'll know no thing of any former fate
Though oft 'tis said, some souls retain a trace
Vestiges of stories past they relate.
Ancient souls look through wise, insightful eyes
Even an infant's youth is no disguise"

"So ready you for life's first episode
Select a tome and get you on your way
Then bear you well, life's sometimes awkward load
And know in life that hope springs everyday."
The speaker thusly ceased his brief address
Rose weightlessly and made his swift egress.

Upon his flight, I hastened to comply
So seized a book from all those gathered there
A rasp of hinges sudden from nearby
The way was lit; a bright and lustrous glare
And drawn I was towards the startling glow
Towards the light, and life, I was to go.

So quick, enthralled, in eagerness I passed
Into the bright, propitious corridor
But there encountered someone standing fast
The grey and humble soul I'd seen before
He snatched my sleeve and spoke into my ear
"Before you cross, a warning you must hear"

"You've taken from what seems a boundless store
No end you think to visits you can pay
But of one fact I wish you to be sure
They're not replaced, the ones you take away
Depleted thus, you'll find before you know
You've gone through more than there are left to go"

"And at the turn, each life, each year, each day
Each moment too, seems quickened in its pace
Until you're here, distressed and in dismay
For your final visit into this place
So from the first, exult, delight, rejoice
Live to the full each time you make your choice"

"So now, young soul, go through into the light
Commence upon the wondrous road ahead
Savour each sound, each scent, each touch, each sight
And mark you well these words that I've just said
For as you start with your first book my friend
I finish with my last; this is my end."