There’s something I saw in the mountain mist,
That too I perceived in the thundering wave,
But then when I felt it, when we first kissed,
I knew it was something I had to save.
Nature’s noble rapture, changing seasons,
Beauty owns the blossoms and falling leaves,
But man walks alone in owning reasons,
Reflected in all is what he believes.
I passed it last night, riding the warm wind,
I was out late, rebelling against time,
Against the wind I had set out to find,
Words to anchor eternity in rhyme.
O’ Captain my Captain, hark, it’s in me,
This thundering soul, creating to be free.

— Becket Knottingham