The world did not invade my soul, it seeped into it Poem by Paul-Eerik Rummo

The world did not invade my soul, it seeped into it
it did not break into my heart, it ate into it.
It spent long wakeful nights in the corner of my room,
a radiance round its head like a halo.
Did it want to comfort or torment me,
deliberately trimming the wick of my sleep-lamp?
Lull me? Rile me? Soothe me? Upset me?
Bind me in any way? Did it even want
anything at all? Perhaps at an hour
when my pupils shrank to pinpoints,
it entered like a passer-by in search of shelter,
rested a while, then sensing it was time to go,
braced itself and left without further ado -
as simply as it had come.
It left me to breathe its uncloying kindness,
its unbiting freshness; a steady flame -
a fire that does not destroy; a colourful sobriety;
a voice that is everywhere a brother, a sister;
a vivid indifference; wholeness is indeed
one - only one - oneness.