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William Blake
To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.
Infinity makes
my head full.
I have been king
of the sea where
we drank and drank
till water was
the wish of all.
My mind is still
in the drink.
To define is to confine
To define is to be finite
To finally shut the windows
To firmly shut others out.
To define is not to look at the sky
To define is to end the quest
To define would be
To defeat yourselves
To rob yourselves of the infinity that was promised...
Who knows?
Perhaps the cloudless night
is a veil of dull black silk
set with small white diamonds
and one yellow pearl
to cover the face
of the infinite
from the vulgar gaze of man.
In a former life,
I was a fish,
eyes wide,
gulping
meaning.
Now I wait,
empty,
a pinpoint
of breath,
a sliver
of infinity.
I WOULD not lose the sense of mystery
That broods about our little lives and springs
Eternal from the unknown heart of things,
Nor miss by rude familiarity
Perception of the finer harmony
That underlies all dissonance and brings
The unseen to our consciousness and flings
A glory round our way continually.
For they alone shall win their happiness
Who still make room for things inscrutable;
And he who sees the greater in the less —
Who finds in folded leaf or purple bell
The Infinite — doth in himself possess
Some kinship with the daily miracle.
Pale this twilight-face,
Shade-ridden the horizon-light;
The forest, a green-gold vision of grace
In its frame of lavender mist.
No rose-leaf washed in moonlight;
No vine on vermilion walls;
Pale sunlight fading into night,
Dark tunes, the music of the hour.
No death, nor life is ours, here;
But the vast vague sea of black
Sounded by star-mariners
Seeking the Infinite's track.