The thick stone of the walls
in a room small and tight
as a prison cell, cannot muffle

the clatter of the cart
as it travels along the path
from the Mansion at Bahji
laden with Persian rugs,
upholstered chairs,
porcelain vases.

As He looked out the window
He would have seen
the Covenant Breakers
striding along the balcony
under brightly colored eaves
laughing.

I stand here, in His room
at Bahji and wonder,
How did He endure....

But He did so I could
be here now, sipping
hot tea with sugar
from a delicate glass cup,
and inhaling the scent
of so many rose petals.