We need the books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea inside us. - Franz Kafka
You might have missed this glorious poem at Francisco Stork's journal, which he posted on an ordinary Tuesday in June.
Do not worry that your love’s beauty
Will dazzle me,
From my daily bread.
Do not worry that the bursting
Notes of your anvil
Will stun me to dead stillness.
Taken together, this quote and this poem, make me believe that each book, each poem is a chance to die . . . and rise, living again.
Don't miss that chance.
Poetry Friday is hosted today at Wild Rose Reader