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And truly, I reiterate, . .
nothing’s small!
No lily-muffled hum of a
summer-bee,
But finds some coupling with the spinning stars;
No pebble at your foot, but proves a sphere;
No chaffinch, but implies the      cherubim:
And, — glancing on my own thin, veined wrist, —
In such a little tremour of the blood
The whole strong clamour of a     vehement soul
Doth utter itself distinct.
Earth’s crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God:
But only he who sees, takes off his shoes…

Excerpted from “Aurora Leigh” by Elizabeth Barrett Browning