Nothing new to report here, other than this: I love springtime.
So, I think, did dear Emily, in her beautiful, melancholy way:
A Light exists in Spring
by Emily Dickinson
A Light exists in Spring
Not present on the Year
At any other period-
When March is scarcely here
A Color stands abroad
On Solitary Fields
That Science cannot overtake
But Human Nature feels.
It waits upon the Lawn,
It shows the furthest Tree
Upon the furthest Slope you know
It almost speaks to you.
Then as Horizons step
Or Noons report away
Without the Formula of sound
It passes and we stay-
A quality of loss
Affecting our Content
As Trade had suddenly encroached
Upon a Sacrament.
A Light exists in Spring
Not present on the Year
At any other period-
When March is scarcely here
A Color stands abroad
On Solitary Fields
That Science cannot overtake
But Human Nature feels.
It waits upon the Lawn,
It shows the furthest Tree
Upon the furthest Slope you know
It almost speaks to you.
Then as Horizons step
Or Noons report away
Without the Formula of sound
It passes and we stay-
A quality of loss
Affecting our Content
As Trade had suddenly encroached
Upon a Sacrament.
~~~~~~~~~~
Rose Cappelli is hosting the Poetry Friday round-up today. Thank you, Rose!
Photo courtesy of Pixabay.
13 comments:
Spring is NOT my favorite season, especially here in Minnesota. It's muddy, messy, brown, bare. Nope. But I'm glad you love spring, and this poem is lovely. I especially like the "It waits upon the Lawn," stanza. That distance somehow engages me...
Thank you for starting my day with a little Emily Dickinson. I love May - my second most favorite season next to October.
Laura, that makes complete sense about spring in Minnesota, lol. My favorite thing about spring is that it’s not winter (which makes me curl up in a ball due to the extreme cold) or summer (which makes me wilt). So, by default, autumn is my favorite and spring comes in second. Whichever season we love, you’re right, this poem is lovely. Since it’s May 1st, I’m late with this, because I, too, love the way this poem is considering spring more from its hints than its realities.
May is usually beautiful in Nebraska, too, Rose. And I also love, love, love October!
Karen, thank you for this sliver of springtime in words. It fits perfectly with what I see out my window right now. : )
Such a beautiful poem. Thanks for the Emily fix this week! I like the feeling of hope Spring brings with it.
Tracey, that sounds like a lovely view!! :)
I like the hope, too, Jama! And who doesn’t need a regular Emily fix? :)
This just reminds me how excited I am that I will get to see Emily Dickinson's house in November.
Karen, thank you for sharing our dear Emily on this May Day! Happy spring to you.
I'm currently writing from a retreat in the Hocking Hills of Ohio. My second story room has floor-to-gable windows that look out on forest and I can attest to the light that "exists in Spring / Not present on the Year / At any other period-". Dawn breaking through trees not fully leafed with birds singing like crazies...lovely.
I especially like that third stanza, Karen! Spring is excellent as far as I am concerned. Summer is tough, but I am not going to think about that til it gets here. xo
Gosh, she is so good -- encroaching on a sacrament! Sigh...
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