If I were to unfold my being into the pages of a never ending book, Would you pick it up? If each word next to each other was in a different language, Would you read it? If the chapters were written out by days on my life? Would you grasp it's concept? If on the title it read "the Daily Thoughts of God's thought, Would you believe in it?
What of the discussions that would arise from my pages, Would you argue with or against me? What of the pain I have given and the joy I have felt, Would you cry and laugh? What of the men and woman I have picture in bed with me, Would you be aroused? What of the sounds I drown the world out with, Would you too close your eyes?
Would you read me if I were a book? If I was sitting on the ground just three pages long? What wonders might you find in me?
I have forgotten the meaning of an open book, practice does not make perfect in this category.