PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Books are one of the things that come to my mind every time I talk about my father. His home office is fil with them. Some of them are in one hanging shelf, some others are on a big rack, another part of them are in a closet and the rest are lying on tables. When you enter the room you get to smell a particular but good smell, an old book smell. That kind of smell that sticks with you and that you certainly want to keep. The mixture of colors and sizes makes the room shines in a way that just the ones that have love something as much as he do with his books will understand. It is the feeling that you get when you enter the room and you know that something or someone is waiting for you, it´s magical. Passion is what my father feels for books and with that came the need to share his ideas with others through writing. Since he was young he knew that he had found something that he would love forever: reading. Founding a story set in a brand new world with brand new people is what made him fell in love with it. He had found people who have feelings, dreams, and problems. All of that in a two hundred page book. Traveling without going anywhere is what books make you feel. He felt it and ever since he has collected every book he could. Making this huge mountain of books that could easily fill a whole new room, and he did. But sometimes not everything happens the way we want it to so he lost a big part of them. The rest convert into his book collection, the best description for him. And it have become a part of very important moments. Because as my father says is always reading time. Remembering a moment when I haven´t seen my father reading is hard. Or if I don´t see him reading a book is because he´s thinking about the end that he has just read or the new book he is about to start, he never runs out of them. Time flies and the only thing that changes in that room is the amount of books in there. Always clean, always with the same smell. That sacred place in where the grand book collection of my father remains is by far one of my favorite places. Maybe because is quiet, maybe because is comfortable or maybe because I know that wherever the books are, my father is.