Four hid stones
in a stream
Incandescent
pebbles
Small round and
smooth
Shining there
fire bright
Four hid
feathers in the air
Little sharp
quills
Brave and
beautiful
Twirling there
very light
Four cornered shafts all found in my middle
Stony weights
and feathered burdens first
Yet freed in
uplifts both come weaving through
Till bathed in
lit-life winged sight they give me
Love in delight in patience born of peace
These four all a perfect portion form
When drawn of
light I am drowned in life
And left shining
there . . . underneath.
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