If life held only the story of love,
we could clothe it in scarlet roses,
delicate hearts and turtle doves,
but even love gets tedious.
If life were played as a mystery scoop
with curious details and clues,
don't you think we'd eventually droop
with only that to ponder?
If life held only a vision of war
with its solitary image of death,
with its drying bones on a desolate shore,
how gloomy a tale that would be.
If life consisted of science fiction
we'd all be out in space,
and who would stay and care for the earth
if we'd all gone far away?
If life were portrayed in animal tales
in the language of barks and squeeks,
those good little chats would undoubtedly fail
to grip our interest for long.
If life held only the touches of kindness
would we gentle our words with caresses
and argue and yell a little bit less
as we read only saintly tales?
But life shows all of these and more,
and we can hold them within our hands
for there's an abundance of stories
inside every book we explore.
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