“A Light Exists in Spring,” by Emily Dickinson

I awoke this morning to cool mists and shocks of deep green ivy climbing the massive gray hulks of my neighborhood’s oaks.  Given what is going on in the world, I wondered what fate might bring to the green, breezy valley of my adopted home.  I thought about trying to write something, but I was too tired.

Fortunately, my friend Jen shared this piece on Facebook.  It’s perfect.

 

“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 hills
That science cannot overtake,
But human nature feels.

It waits upon the lawn;
It shows the furthest tree
Upon the furthest slope we know;
It almost speaks to me.

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.

 

800px-Mary_Vaux_Walcott_-_Untitled_(Ivy)_-_1970.355.776_-_Smithsonian_American_Art_Museum

Mary Vaux Walcott, 1874

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s