I Am The Book

I am the book, that you read, in the afternoon
By the light of the day,  
Or at night by the light of a bright moon.

If you close your eyes,  I will steal away
But I will return, when you open them, again.

You hold me in your hands,  so you know me very well
You read me every day, and you have a tale to tell

I ask you where am I, when your eyes are open wide
You show me, but what about when your eyes are shut tight?

The book you see, is it the cover, hard-bound or soft?
You will tell me, no, no, definitely not!

I ask you then, am I page one? You say that I am not,
You say the same about the others, to the last page that you bought

We agree, you and me, that I am not a page
I sing Hallelujah!, Oh happy happy day!

You may say I'm a collection, of things that are not me
You must contemplate, and meditate on this impossibility!

I come from your imagination

I'm your creation,  “wonderful” !  (If I may say),
But on the day of your enlightenment, I will stay away.
Along with every 'thing', that you see, today

Sean
2015 in Windermere