But this common world of beauty is our vision to behold,
As significant, entrancing, and inspired as John’s of old.

John interpreted in fable records of the Hidden Mind.

What God means by night and morning, by the wild bird songs in spring,
Or the mighty dirge of winter when the great pines sway and sing.

Whoso reads the shining legend written in the stony brook
By the Author of the granite and the midnight’s starry book,

Wouldst thou learn God's primal secret? Hark what Beauty has to say,
When the spirit thrills with rapture and the gates of pride give way.

In the respite after seeking comes the whisper of the Voice,

Ask no Medium to teach thee. God exists but to inspire.
To the seeker comes the knowledge. To the kindling comes the fire.

Is thy speech as sweet as lilacs, and thy touch as clean as dew?
Truth is walking in the twilight still, and has a word for you.

We are dream-enchanted beings, kin to rhythms of light and air.
Singing wind and running water have us in their fostering care.

Let the punctual tides instruct thee, and the planets give thee poise.

Live in friendship with the seasons, and their skill will make thee whole.
Take the bird’s call and the brook’s note for their tonic to thy soul.

Bathe in renaissance of morning, drink the solace twilight brings,
Feed on beauty for thy welfare and the strength whence rapture springs;