A Gentle Balance

A tiny hollow resonance caught my ear this morning from the bookcase. Between two leaning paperbacks, an unsharpened pencil was teetering precariously over an open wooden bookmark. I climbed up slowly, testing each wooden ledge until I gained firm footing on the shelf. The pencil shuddered every time footsteps echoed down the hall. Dropping into a quiet, grounded stance, I extended my forward fist with slow, steady determination. Guiding its lacquered cedar body with the curve of my translucent knuckles, I rolled it back into the secure crease of the spine. Now, neither can tumble.