Watch how the aspen leaf, pale and windless, waggles
While one white cloud loiters motionless over Wyoming,
And think how delicately the heart may flutter
In the windless joy of unworded revelation.
Look how sea-foam, thin and white, makes its Arabic scrawl
On the unruffled sand of the beach’s faint-tilted plane.
Is there a message there for you to decipher?
Or only the joy of its sunlit, intricate rhythm?
Yes, we wander our world
Of miracles, whispers, hi-jinks, and metaphor.
What image–behind blind eyes when the nurse steps back–
Will loom at the end of your own life’s long sorites?
— Robert Penn Warren, born this day in 1905
(shamelessly condensed from a longer poem)
Daily-Inspiration 