There Was A Feeling, Not Sudden, But Complete, As Though I Had Been Given A Small Object To Hold Unseen In My Hands. Precious As Opal, Smooth As Jade, Weighty As A River Stone, More Fragile Than A Bird's Egg. Infinitely Still, Live As The Root Of Creation. Not A Gift, But A Trust. Fiercely To Cherish, Softly To Guard. The Words Spoke Themselves And Disappeared Into The Groined Shadows Of The Roof.