Ode to a Bookend

Now the lion roars in silence
Haunting phrases bound in covers,
Mane on paws unsharpened resting,
Stoic stillness never broken.

Solidly he lies in waiting,
Words unseeing, deaf to meaning,
Yet in majesty he lives,
Bringing joy to one who watches.

Will that one the words uncover,
Will the lessons he discover,
Or will he, lion-like, live on
In ignorance of life and love?

Copyright J. Norman Reid. You may copy this poem and share it with your friends, but you may not reprint or publish it without my permission.