I love its aroma,
The scent of roots,
It calms my wits.
I enjoy its texture,
A texture smooth as dough
That ferments the mind
To create and grow.
“Teach me!”
As I whisper to it
At the dawn of its pages.
Teach me, the world,
Language, lots – everything.
What I love the most
Its pages – cracks,
As they rise – to teach me.