A poem for Spring
Emily Dickinson's A light exist in spring
Happy first day of Spring. Here is a little poem by Emily Dickinson. She seems to be heralding then mourning the rare and precious light of spring itself. May we all look toward renewal, and find joy in the small things, a blade of grass, a chirping bird.
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.
These comments are wonderful. From expanding the sense of encroachment to relentless snows to walks upon paths in the burgeoning spring. Thank you all.
I love Emily Dickinson. 'As Trade had suddenly encroached/Upon a Sacrament.' Just incredible. There is loss but there is beauty. As you say, Patti, find joy in the small things. Thanks for the reading. Happy Spring, everybody.