Cradled

I woke up realizing that

All night I was cradled by

Pages of words containing

Thoughts, conversations, ideas

Of descriptive words and objects

The air, apart from the warmth of light

Seemed dusty and there was an

Unexplainable smell that I knew

Fresh as dew, yet worn as a rag

That one only recognize when facing it

They were scattered about, mixed into

The waves of the cold, smooth sheets

Yet they warm me more than the sun

A sweet embrace that assured me

Of the good things in life

I felt at home