Tomes of stone

Tomes of stone tell old stories, those
can transmute lifeless to alive- a philosophers
legacy to descry sustenance where matter has died-
is it a trick of magic or imagication- to circumvent
unknowns and twist our human sensation?

What then are stories written on the once
live, an act of the Cannibals surely, like
Robinson Caruso brought to life, or is it a
sacrifice like Jesus Christ, is knowledge worth
that inevitable price- to champion ones life
for the better of all, the bells do ring for you
who paint understanding- a providential call.

But tomes of stone inanimate indeed,
must surely hold that whose been able
to bleed, to head the word of Poseidon,
waves he rides and scribbles notions of past
and former reservoirs, the ultimate solvent
a nature of law, if stone beckons by the forces
of wind and water, then paper which we
write must feel the pains and ardent scolds
of writing, like lightning strike shocked with
fear, but driven still the message clear,
without tomes we would never know-
so give a book the chance to grow, imbibe its
wisdom and plant it again, in the minds of family and friends.