Take Your Shoes Off

2 thoughts on “Take Your Shoes Off”

  1. And truly, I reiterate, . . nothing’s small!
    No lily-muffled hum of a summer-bee,
    But finds some coupling with the spinning stars;
    No pebble at your foot, but proves a sphere;
    No chaffinch, but implies the cherubim:
    And, — glancing on my own thin, veined wrist, —
    In such a little tremor of the blood
    The whole strong clamour of a vehement soul
    Doth utter itself distinct. Earth’s crammed with heaven,
    And every common bush afire with God:
    But only he who sees, takes off his shoes,
    The rest sit round it, and pluck blackberries,
    And daub their natural faces unaware
    More and more, from the first similitude.
    – Elizabeth Browning

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