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INDIAN SUMMER
Emily Dickinson [1830-1886]
These are the days when birds come back,
A very few, a bird or two,
To take a backward look.
These are the days when skies put on
The old, old sophistries of June, –
A blue and gold mistake.
Oh, fraud that cannot cheat the bee,
Almost thy plausibility
Induces my belief,
Till ranks of seeds their witness bear,
And softly through the altered air
Hurries a timid leaf!
Oh, sacrament of summer days,
Oh, last communion in the haze,
Permit a child to join,
Thy sacred emblems to partake,
Thy consecrated bread to break,
Taste thine immortal wine!
Not knowing when the dawn will come I open every door.
~ Emily Dickinson
She said:
“If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire ever can warm me I know that is poetry. If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.”
“The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience.”
Quotation by Emily Dickinson
To see the Summer Sky
Is Poetry, though never in a Book it lie –
True Poems flee –
– by Emily Dickinson
Video by Lynn Tomlinson
Today is the birthday of Emily Dickinson, December 10, 1830
Emily Dickinson
Hope
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune–without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
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