A Light Exists in Spring

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 naturefeels.

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.

By: Emily Dickinson

picture by Richard, Sri Chinmoy Centre galleries

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Blogger johnji said...

I certainly am a fan of Emily Dickinson’s poetry, but this poem is exceptionally beautiful. Thanks for sharing.

March 9, 2007 at 6:30 PM  

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