"Light breaks where no sun shines; Where no sea runs, the waters of the heart Push in their tides; And, broken ghosts with glow-worms in their heads, The things of light File through the flesh where no flesh decks the bones. A Dawn breaks behind the eyes; From poles of skull and toe the windy blood Slides like a sea; Nor fenced, nor staked, the gushers of the sky Spout to the rod Divining water through the tracts of fly. Light breaks on secret lots, On tips of thought where thoughts smell in the rain; When logics die, The skies of trout above the innocent eye Canvass a world; Hearted alarums thin a blood of syren. Night breaks on its own nights, Where no sun shines, the stars throw shafts of bush; The thumb-and-player bird. Through the wood of the limbs the hooded eye Glows in the sun; When the vats are full, the seed of generation Stabs the dry world and gushes from the owners." Dylan Thomas