Why 4 Lines From An Impoverished Poet Speak to Me 222 Years On

When we write our truth, words transcend time

I still remember the day I finished uni.

But I remember almost nothing of what I learned there.

Except for these four lines from a poem:

To see a World in a Grain of Sand

And a Heaven in a Wild Flower

Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand

And Eternity in an hour.

Written by the poet and painter, William Blake, in 1803.

I know them by heart.

And they were written 222 years ago.

Why did they stick?

An English tutor might point out:

• the rhyming lines — a classic poetry technique

• the striking metaphors

• the contrasts

Yes.

But for me, the words weren’t just well chosen. Or melodic. Or imaginative.

They were like favourite songs.

I felt them. They touched my soul. They woke me up.

They were fine-tuning forks vibrating with something hidden deep within.

Words Sneak Readers Into Other Realities

Back then, as a teenager, Blake’s words were Truth.

Alternate reality.

They described what I craved. Experience that was timeless, unbounded, deeply seeing.

They were a map to a treasure I wasn’t sure existed.

But the fact that Blake wrote about it confirmed to me that it was possible.

And inspired me to make that vision real.

Words, mostly poetry, helped on my quest.

I found a trail of breadcrumbs telling me I was on the right path.

Like these words from Aldous Huxley,

If the doors of perception were cleansed everything would appear to man as it is, infinite.

And from William Wordsworth,

With an eye made quiet by the power of harmony, and the deep power of joy, we see into the life of things.

And when writing a term paper on Taoism, I got closer to seeing how to make the vision an experience.

Because Lao Tzu, in the Taoist book Tao Te Ching, spoke about what it takes to see profoundly:

Do you have the patience to wait until your mud settles and the water is clear?

These words sent a clear message about the path.

I'd have to learn patience.

I'd have to clear the mud.

That's when I knew the journey forward was beyond words. It would be a quietening, awakening, silent inner path.

Words Carry Writers Into the Future

Millions of people have lived and died since William Blake (and even more since Lao Tzu’s time).

But little remains to allow me to know them.

And I do “know” Blake.

Even though he lived in England, 11,000 miles from me. More than 200 years ago.

I know he painted (as I do), and he yearned for a way of seeing further (as I did).

Because he wrote, and his words struck enough people over the centuries to be preserved.

So today in 2025 in Australia, Blake’s here.

And I learn from the word choices he made. From the colours in his art. From the range of his creativity.

Wordsworth’s around too and, while living in a twenty-first-century sunny city, I learn from him.

I heard that his regular long rambles in the Lake District inspired his work.

As do long walks in the Aussie bush for me. And when I walk, I keep my antenna up to catch ideas, as he did as well.

Words From the Past Still Buoy Us Up

So, when I look at my crammed bookshelves now, I see living writers. People who felt, sorrowed, delighted, just like we do.

And I’m grateful to them for taking the time to reflect, to write, to create. To speak their truth.

And I honour them.

Because a creative impact that crosses years, let alone centuries, is quite a legacy.

Yes, it's worth appreciating them for the beautifully crafted wordsmithing.

But we also recognize their gifts of vision, affirmation, kinship, and hope.

Reading them eases a burden.

Creates connection.

Helps us feel seen.

And be okay with who we are.

As writer Anne Lamott says in her book, “Bird by Bird,”

Writing and reading decrease our sense of isolation. They deepen and widen and expand our sense of life: They feed the soul. When writers make us shake our heads with the exactness of their prose and their truths, and even make us laugh about ourselves or life, our buoyancy is restored.

That’s a talent, to restore buoyancy in someone hundreds of years after you’ve gone.

Whose Words Awakened You?

We don’t know how long our words will hang around or even who they impact now.

With AI and cloud storage, perhaps they’ll last for millennia.

But for now, let’s share stories of words that touched you from across space and time.

That detoured your life. That made it all clear finally. That helped you through.

And who was the messenger?

A famous writer from the past you’ll never meet but who feels as close as family?

A fellow creative who recently acknowledged you?

An encouraging teacher?

A mad outlier of an uncle?

I’d love to hear your story.

Because Words Worth Sharing has, at its beating heart, this gift of connection through words.