I didn’t win light in a windfall, br nor by deed of a father’s will. br I hewed my light from granite. br I quarried my heart. br br In the mine of my heart a spark hides – br not large, but wholly my own. br Neither hired, nor borrowed, nor stolen – br my very own. br br Sorrow wields huge hammer blows, br the rock of endurance cracks br blinding my eye with flashes br I catch in verse. br br They fly from my lines to your breast br to vanish in kindled flame. br While I, with heart’s blood and marrow br pay the price of the blaze.