What secrets lie within rustling blooms,
That hide away worlds unseen?
Shrink me down to the base of a stalk,
And lend me a green ivy vine.
That I may climb to yonder waving door,
Up, up, up to reality’s end.
Upon an amethyst porch so I now stand,
Where dusted gold gates lie open.
What lies beyond alone I will know,
As I take a breath and with pebbled feet walk through.