Inscription for a Scented Garden for the Blind
Wayfarer, pause. Although you may not see,
Earth's bright children, herbs and flowers, are here:
It is their small essential souls that greet you,
Mounted upon the morning or evening air:
While from above, from sky and tree-bough,
Birds fling down their songs, a musical burgeoning.
from Collected Poems (Carcanet, 1988), copyright © John Heath-Stubbs 1988, used by permission of the author.