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.

The Poet

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.