All right, let’s just assume that I’m allied
With some benevolent, wise Spirit Guide
On whom I might depend for sound advice
If I could only learn how to entice
It to appear or by some means reveal
Its wisdom in a way that I could feel—
By subtle signs or in a prescient dream
Where distant visionary prospects gleam.
The closest thing to evidence I know
That such a supposition may be so
Is watching how my pen and mind can find
The words with which this poem is designed.
There’s something supernatural guides my hand,
Presenting what no conscious thought had planned.