To Read to Write

I dream of library shelves
stacked with coffee and time.
Heart poured pages, backwards
picture books, and brilliant minds.
Stories primed with grandeur
and subatomic precision.
Pick of the litter through reviews
and cover colored decisions.
Simple solace in a party
bumping with well worn words.
Long dead fingers scrawling
with broken nails to be heard.
Ancient and modern insight
that gives sight into my chest.
My mind in a tar-pitched basket
rocked by wisdom's waves as they crest.
Punch the clock at opening
and let the rain fall into night.
Grab the torch of time's thought
and find my soul alight.
Sing the bright melody
of the waltz within my head.
Then turn my pen to the void
and empty my ink until I'm dead.