Four hundred books on my shelves to sort out…

Overwhelming to even think about,

But for me, nothing will ever bring me calm

Quite like shifting around books from each palm.

Walking back and forth between both cases

And to my new cubby of nine spaces,

All of which give my books homes of white wood,

Feels freeing, as for any bookworm should!

However, underneath this "mundane" chore

Lies not the desire to collect more,

To make more space for each new addition,

But rather my very own tradition…

This is something I never want to change:

Alphabetizing by author's last name,

Grouping series installments together,

And making room in my heart forever!

This whole routine of mine is just enough

To give me some control when life gets rough;

It's always a reminder for myself

To do what I need to do shelf by shelf.