Impatient Books

The book in her hand seemed to prickle a little, as if it were impatient to be read.
- Diane Duane

This is my dilemma. A stack of books on my piano. A stack of books on my coffee table. Bookshelves full of books, from end to end. From shelf to shelf. I want to read them all the time. At every moment when at home, I'd rather be reading. The books on the table should not have the chance to collect dust. They should be touched, picked up, and read. Everyday.

It always seems to be that I want to read when I have other things I need to do. It is always then that I have the un-tameable desire to open my book that is there, staring at me, impatient to be read, and saying "read me".  But there are always other things that have to draw my attention away. And sometimes you have to attend to those things.

The rain sprinkled this afternoon. Just mere droplets misting down, almost reluctantly. I didn't sense a desire in those clouds to produce any real rain, but oh how I longed for a good rain shower so I could curl up on my sofa and get lost in a book. Weather does have a say in the matter. It stayed hot, humid, and shifty all afternoon, so I studied instead.