Whistle Through the Shelves

The whistling air crosses paper shelves,
the library breathes forgotten dreams within time’s folds.
Dust becomes a wave and volumes open like shells,
invisible waters flow through pages eroded by memory.
A tremor of wind ignites tiny lights, lost names emerge,
submerged corridors become paths of quiet light.
When breath returns, the dreams appear sailing,
and the whistle falls silent leaving a new library between words and lights.