THE PRESENCE

I pray and incur
silence. Some take that silence
for refusal.
           I feel the power
that,invisible, catches me
by the sleeve, nudging
           towards the long shelf
that has the book on it I will take down
           and read and find the antidote
to an ailment.
           I know its ways with me ;
how it enters my life,
           is present rather
before I perceive it, sunlight quivering
on a bare wall.
           Is it consciousness trying
to get through ?
           Am I under
regard ?
           It takes me seconds
to focus, by which time
           it has shifted its gaze,
looking a little to one
           side, as though I were not here.

It has the universe
           to be abroad in.
There is nothing I can do
but fill myself with my own
           silence, hoping it will approach
           like a wild creature to drink
there, or perhaps like Narcissus
to linger a moment over its transparent face.