I come here not for renewal
of my books, but of myself.

The library
is a temple of silence
in a world of noise.

In silence I can think.
In silence I can nurture
the small one within me
in his fetal position,
eyes closed, trusting
to float in the dark
amneotic fluid,

as gravity-free
as an astronaut
in that other dark womb.

This space is not
that space, though.

Here, the small one
floats, trusts, relaxes,
lets himself go
where the currents take him,
the dark, friendly currents.

He does not need to think.
Allowed to forget,
he begins
to remember.

Max Reif

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/22aug-in-the-library/