A sketch by Isaac Newton of one of his prism experiments

Through Life inexplicable as ours

And changing conditions all hours,

Am I a receiver of mysterious rays,

That I do not know how to appraise?

Sun rays that are streaming in me,

What are they intended to be?

Forces of Love transformed into life,

Sensing its way in constant strife,

Balancing, on an edge so brittle,

Between too much and too little?

Is Sun streaming an urgent call?

Is Love in us learning to crawl?