When most I think, then do mine eyes worst see,
For all the day they read things unelected
Experts write. But when I daydream, free
Of care, I sense what’s right lies undetected
Out of sight, where shadow’s shade casts doubt
And certainty can never thrive. And so
Such questions upwards bubble and come out
As back to night’s state of black dark I go
And mole like blindness melts with owls’ skill
Which knows that wisdom does not think it knows,
Nor sees, but finely senses and with will
Hunts answers from such men as borrow
Power, knowing it must be repaid tomorrow.
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