यद्यद्विभूतिमत्सत्त्वं श्रीमदूर्जितमेव वा।तत्तदेवावगच्छ त्वं मम तेजोंऽशसंभवम्॥
yad yad vibhūtimat sattvaṃ śrīmad ūrjitam eva vātat tad evāvagaccha tvaṃ mama tejo ’nśa-sambhavam
Word by word
The verse says
Whatever exists that is glorious, or beautiful, or strong — know that it comes from a fragment of my splendour.
In plain words
Here is the rule the whole list was teaching.
Not these particular things. Anything of this kind, anywhere.
Tejo-'ṃśa-sambhavam — born of a fragment of my brightness. A fragment, not the whole, which is the next verse's point.
Where you've felt this · in creative work
You watch somebody take a hopeless tangle of wires and sort it out in two minutes, humming. Or hear a stranger sing four bars while cleaning. Neither is a performance and neither is for you. You stop for a second anyway, and you could not say exactly why.
Going deeper
A general rule arrives here that makes the entire catalogue unnecessary, which is clearly the intention.
The list could never have been finished. This replaces it with a test the reader can run themselves: wherever something is genuinely excellent, beautiful or strong, that excellence has one source. No item needs to be on an approved list. The recognition is the method.
It also quietly answers a question the chapter has raised and not addressed — what about all the glories that were left out, including everything in a reader's own life and century.
And it gives the chapter a surprisingly practical use. You do not have to go looking for religious experiences. Whatever has already stopped you in your tracks this year — a piece of work done well, somebody's kindness, a morning — is named here as the thing itself, arriving in a portion small enough to survive.