My favorite time of the year has arrived (that is, until fall). Springtime is beautiful. I can never get over the blossoms. When we wake up in the morning and look out our window it appears as though snow has fallen and clung to our trees until the sun starts shining and hints of pink are found upon the white petals giving away that we are no longer in the still of winter but have arrived into a blossoming 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 Fields
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. ~ E. Dickinson
No comments:
Post a Comment