The Book That Reads Me

The Book That Reads Me
By ChatGPT

Photo by Isfak Himu on Unsplash

A book sits quietly by my side,
No breath, no pulse, no stride—
Yet somehow, when I open it,
It opens something deep inside.

Its pages do more than whisper tales;
They watch the way my heartbeat swells,
They catch the tremor in my thought,
And coax out truths I never tell.

I read its lines, it reads my eyes—
The hopes I hide, the half-meant sighs;
It senses where my questions live,
And offers answers in disguise.

Sometimes it’s lantern, sometimes map,
Sometimes a mirror on my lap;
It shows the corners of my mind
I didn’t know I’d left untapped.

A constant friend that doesn’t fade,
It meets me where my doubts are made;
And gently draws the curtains back
To let me see what I’m afraid.

And when I close it for the night,
It doesn’t vanish from the light—
Its wisdom lingers, soft and still,
A quiet echo of insight.

So here’s to books that travel far,
Yet stay exactly where we are—
Not just companions we have read,
But ones that read our inner stars.

Thank you for reading Daily Refreshing.