Diagraming the Sentence

Our subject is light.

Modified by the stained glass window

and the silt-gray puddle beyond the porch where sparrows come to bathe.

Our predicate is searches.

No modifier — there are no limits

to the longings of light.

Our object is understood,

meaning we have no words

for what light seeks,

but we can feel our way;

we know how light likes to dance with the world — co-conspirator, co-conjuror, the original sweet whisperer

of nothings.

Ours, then, could be called a simple sentence. Nothing

to compound our seeker, who (unknown to her) is a creature herself

of light. No relative clauses. No infinitives to split, no participle left

to dangle.

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