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.
from Auguries of Innocence
Today is William Blake’s birthday. He is one of my favorite poets, one I still turn to when I want to see how someone forcefully made the world into a place habitable for himself.
o, crimson worm
art thou sick
in thy dark secret, flies
does the invisible storm destroy life
howling in his bed
thy love has found out
and the joy of life rises
This is a remix of The Sick Rose, a poem by William Blake, one of my favorite Poets with a capital P. You can find the original here. I’m pretty sure I used every word and only changed one.