William Blake is one of my favorite poets. Here’s a favorite poem of mine.
The Tyger
Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies.
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat.
What dread hand? & what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp.
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears
And water’d heaven with their tears:
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Tyger Tyger burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
Sometimes, when somebody is loosing it around me, I think to myself Did he who made the lamb make thee?
It inspired me to write my own poem. Here it is.
The Spyder
Oh my arachnid brother,
you are so small
and yet you have so many legs.
If a man had so many eyes and legs
he would be
a fearful sight.
But on you my friend,
they are quite alright.
kevinwarstadt.com 