Turning the Leaf

I approached the heavy oak lectern near the east window, where the large volume of scripture rested open in the morning stillness. The corner of a fresh page remained slightly bowed, waiting to be turned. Leaning my yellow sword upright against the carved bookrest, I planted my boots firmly on the timber. I took the edge of the stiff linen sheet between my palms. With slow, measured strength, I guided the broad leaf across the binding, smoothing its crease until the new passage lay flat and unshadowed in the light. Truth is best received when approached with steady hands.