To be humbled and then rumbled

The tiny threads of toadstools
Hiding in the litter
A spiders web that hangs off someones
Car
A snail that leaves a silver trail
To somewhere far away
A dew drop looking
Like a star
None of these might make a stunning picture
So many eyes will probably never see
But they are there for sensitives to glimpse
And be inspired
They are there for there they will always be
Thats why there are these tiny nooks and crannies
The humble places with the utmost grace
Consciousness can often reach into a state of ardour
They are there in fact that they may see your face