For most of us, there is only the unattended
Moment, the moment in and out of time,
The distraction fit lost in a shaft of sunlight,
Hints followed by guesses; and the rest
Is prayer, observance, discipline,
thought and action.
The hint half guessed, the gift half understood,
is incarnation.
With the word creative we stand under a mystery. And from time to time that mystery, as if it were a sun, sends down upon one head or another, a sudden shaft of light—by grace, one feels, rather than deserving, for it always is something given, free, unsought, unexpected. It is useless, possibly even profane, to ask for an explanation.