The Book

This past Christmas, Hilary asked for Books. Not a surprise. She loves them. They fill her bedroom, her house and flow from one room into the next. Go to Rikie's house, and they line her massive built in bookshelves, and are in every room and every closet. And then there is Marla. Marla not only has enormous quantities of books at her house, but can also either get or recommend others to you due to her vocation as a librarian! Of course, I have always loved books. They are how I have learned most everything of consequence in my life.

I think we like books so much because our lives are so much like books. Chapters open and close. Characters come and go. Conflict, sadness, grief and tragedy line the pages, along with descriptions, places and wonderful news. There are scary chapters, beautiful chapters, love-story chapters, chapters of exotic locations, and chapters about your children. Chapters that you are entirely glad to close, and chapters you wish would never end. We write that book throughout our days, weeks, months, and years.

Perhaps the story ends happily, but really.... if you have already read it, don't spoil it for me.
I don't want to know the ending.

The Book
copyright 2008, LeighAnn Heil

I got a book up on a shelf
A book I have written by myself
Its full of love and tragedy
Just don’t tell the end to me

I got a book I love to read
Full of all life’s mysteries
Like bedtime stories and wedding days
First steps and bikes and kids at play

I got a book with chapters dark
Night time shadows and scary parts
Happy endings shared with friends
I just don’t want to know the end

I got a book, a story to tell
I wrote it long and wrote it well
Trying to keep up as the years go by
Writing as fast as my fingers can fly…
don’t tell the end to me

We all have a book we have to write
Full of all our days and all our nights
The words record our lives, you see
Just don’t tell the end to me
No don’t tell the end to me.

We got a book, a story to tell
Write it long and write it well..
Try to keep up as the years go by,
Writing just as fast as our fingers can fly

We all have a book we have to write
Full of all our days and all our nights
We write just exactly what we want it to be…
Just don’t tell the end to me, no don’t tell the end to me.

listen to THE BOOK at
http://sirenssing.com/hostbaby/merge?stage=music&substage=2