S o n n e t 1 9
P r e m a
She moves around the room as silently
As worshipper in inner holy shrine;
Mind as still as moment before dawn,
Making the silence deeper; magnifying
That space that's larger than the room
itself;
Touching all things to a holiness
As gentle as a mouse’s listening
ear;
Bringing to solid things an inner life,
To shadowed things the light of their
own sense;
Until the holy elements themselves
Are gently put in place; and now this
room
Becomes the holiest shrine of love on
earth.
All’s now perfect; at the door, a pause;
A flash of coloured duster: thus, love’s laws.
Evoked by the situation of a
conversation reduced to silence
-- and observation – when interrupted by someone coming in
and asking if they might dust the room…
