When human thought transforms to verse,
With its value never in doubt.
How potent are the elements
That have it come about.
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It sparkles on a dewy leaf.
It shimmers where wet stones lie.
It plays around when a shadow moves.
It flickers from a star-filled sky.
It glows gently from subtle moonbeams.
It flashes bright on a rippling pond.
It plays through a stand of waving grass.
It glares from a shining frond.
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It is scattered through a tangle of boughs.
It blossoms in the dark of a cave.
It is mirrored in the colours of flowers.
It twinkles on the crest of a wave.
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It blazes out from sea-washed rocks.
It glints from a frost-coated hedge.
It shows in the movement of a flickering flame.
It shines at a grey cloud’s edge.
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See it plainly everywhere;
In day, night, dusk and dawn.
It’s found in all those countless places
Where poetry is born.