Montessori school

MONTESSORI SCHOOL

The fingers, the minds of children,

flow over these blocks, these color tablets,

unaging stones in a stream that comes to knowing;

these cylinders, these beads without an end,

bright as the noon: the land beyond the cave;

land of integers

before my standard errors of the mean,

before my necessary sin,

before I so loved the world.

In the straitness of this room

my heart is still

in the circle of silence.