I acquire books

In these books, other books
are mentioned,
which I buy

Some of these books put up resistance

This resistance makes navigation hard,
and I go astray every other sentence,
having to backtrack and start over
and over
and over,
till I'm in a loop
of misunderstanding

So I put these volumes aside,
stashed alongside their peers
on a shelf
or in a pile
for some time,
while they come to constitute
a not insignificant part of my environment,
their backs turned

I hear them hum and mumble at night

Whether in my north or south habitat,
some of those closed cases
slumber for years, even decades
- but the time comes,
as times are known to -
when I chance
giving these dormant dusties
and myself another chance,
pulling a random hard case
out of a shelf or pile,
only to find, to my amazement,
that the texts have become fluent
and flowing
under my gaze,
making it seem, that just by living
day to day, year by year, decade by decade,
understanding and enjoyment
have replaced struggling and straining

When I wasn't looking,
these books had changed their tune,
had had a change of heart,
of mind and mood, of temperament,
and come to me like purring cats,
eager to be stroked by my gaze,
now leaping suspended
from sentence to sentence,
claiming the friendship of,
for instance,
these volumes:

Douglas Hofstadter: Gödel, Escher, Bach

Julian Jaynes: The Origin of Consciousness
in the Breakdown of Bicameral Mind

Jean Gebser: The Ever-Present Origin

Yes, a well-read corpse
will be waiting for my decomposition
beyond the last cup of coffee,
the final tough text
finally having become accustomed
to my last gaze, and vice versa!