I’ll have to restart my search for fun, bookish poetry. Lately, I have only found poems written by people who are relatively unknown online. Besides the fact that they wrote the poem in question, I can’t find out anything else. And today it’s even worse… I found a beautiful poem, written by … anonymous. Too bad, because I really like using the author’s background to try and interpret the poem further. Well, it’s back to guessing then! Though it’s difficult to discern anything right now. Besides the fact that it’s someone who genuinely loves reading, … I like the poem though! It’s not very specific, but it encaptures that moment of sitting down with a book by an unknown author. You don’t know what to expect just yet. You have no idea where the story will be taking you. This is pure anticipation, and it’s one of my favourite things about reading!
Here’s an adventure! What awaits
Beyond these closed, mysterious gates?
Whom shall I meet, where shall I go?
Beyond the lovely land I know?
Above the sky, across the sea?
What shall I learn and feel and be?
Open, strange doors, to good or ill!
I hold my breath a moment still
Before the magic of your look.
What shall you do to me, O book?
Little side note, the second and third last line of the poem feel a bit forced to me. I know about “holding still” and “holding breath”, but “holding your breath still”? That seems incorrect to me, it feels foreign. And it kind of stopped me when reading the poem, I tripped over that line. The second to last line also stopped me. What look? Look as in the fashion word applied to the outside of a book? Or how the book is looking at you? Not a metaphor I’m fond off. I did like the rest of the poem, since it really flowed!