Treasures

Lines of writing reflect many things
A point of view, or a raven's wing
The voices of long dead poets live
In the words they crafted and refined

It is a treasure chest to me
Each unexplored text I stumble on
Open the page so undefined
Is like landing on the moon to some

If we are blessed to live so long
As to read almost every written book
We still would be amazed
At just how long it took?

The words have their own power
To change my world each hour
One moment in blissful love romance
Another in the south of France

I just am grateful to be aware
OF the magnitude of the honor
To be able to read the legacy
Left to us from generations past