An Ordinary Sanctuary

on the page we grew like dusk falling
something breathtaking
impossibly ravishing, but in the reflection 
of actual morning sunlight we shrank to something quite ordinary: 

ordinary love in ordinary creased white sheets ordinary 
glasses resting on ordinary night tables 
removed after reading ordinary books 
just before switching off the small bedside lamp
at an ordinary hour. 

in the distance we could hear the monastery bells, 
the soft sound of a bird’s nest falling, 

to the forest floor.