The Author and the Book

Within a room, upon a ledge, sat a book that was unread,

Lonely and cold, full of dust, pages unturned, smelling of must.

The room was closed and silent too, waiting for light just to shine through.

One day a door was opened wide, to reveal a man who stepped inside.

He looked around and began to clean, removing all the junk that was unseen

Then He came to the ledge, where that book was sitting on the edge.

He lifted it off that lonely place, and took it too an open space

Upon a desk he laid it down and took a moment to glance around.

He reached up high to open a shade and sunlight poured in from the outside glade.

He opened a drawer to pull out a pen and opened the book so He could begin

And as He sat and opened the book He smiled as He took His first look.

For in the book as He turned the page, was nothing but paper, unstained by age

And so with a flourish and a twist of the hand he settled in the chair and thus he began

One letter at a time, one word, one thought, the Author wrote the script for the one He had bought

And in His mind He saw her there leading a life that would lead her near

Through danger and darkness, joy and peace, He wrote a love in her that would never cease

Within the pages of the scroll, He placed a life that was His to control

The story continues to this very day and though pages seem blank don’t fret in dismay

For long before time began the Author had scripted you in His master plan

He set you aside for good works to do, so that His light and glory could shine through you.

And in those times, when you are dry and worn, remember the butterfly that is reborn

In darkness it waits in silent repose, for the breaking of dawn when the light would expose

Life that was hidden within the depths, freed from layers, disuse and unrest

And bursting forth with freedoms song the beauty of the butterfly as it flutters along

And as He lays aside His pen, He closed the door and retraced His steps.

But in that darkened room no more, waits a book to be reborn

For time will come when pages unseen, will come to life and His love will redeem

A light that is cast through the ages of time to reflect the glory of the Author Divine.

 -Daniel Miller