31 To him who keeps an orchis’ heart

Written late summer 1858 – this is the last poem of Fascicle I. And a lovely ode to a flower sends us on our way –

 

To him who keeps an Orchis’ heart –
The swamps are pink with June.

[Emily Dickinson]

I wasn’t sure what an orchis was, so I looked it up –

orchis orchid flower

In the orchid family – it looks to me like a mix between an orchid and a snapdragon. Often pink, sometimes purple.

Let this be inspiration to buy yourself some flowers today and keep a flower’s heart with you – it’s almost June, but there’s something about getting a blossom or a bouquet, even more so when it comes from yourself.

Peace and Love –

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30 To lose if one can find again

Written late summer 1858 on the last sheet of Fascicle I – just one more little poem in this group and we sojourn onward! But today’s is a gem, and I am relishing this journey. Savor this one with me –

 

To lose – if One can find again –
To miss – if One shall meet –
The Burglar cannot rob – then –
The Broker cannot cheat.
So build the hillocks gaily –
Thou little spade of mine
Leaving nooks for Daisy
And for Columbine –
You and I the secret
Of the Crocus know –
Let us chant it softly –
There is no more snow”!

[Emily Dickinson]

Let me encourage you to spend a bit of time with these poems – often it takes several readings for me to absorb the full weight of her words, and even then I’m sure there’s more. That’s what I love about her poetry: it provides a challenge. Let yourself see everything as a metaphor, every word as an image – wander, play, experiment. Create your own adventure.

Love –

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29 All these my banners be

Late summer 1858, last sheet of Fascicle I.

 

All these my banners be.
I sow my – pageantry
In May –
It rises train by train –
Then sleeps in state again –
My chancel – all the plain
Today.

[Emily Dickinson]

The chancel is a part of a church reserved for choir and clergy. Nature is the community, the decoration, the noble looker on. I love the image of a little woman directing trees and flowers and grasses to grow and blossom, like a conductor.

Joy and peace –

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27 Flees so the phantom meadow

Written late summer 1858. This one and the last were combined into one in an un-author-approved publication ┬áin 1945 and 1960. But she transcribed them into her Fascicle I separately. This is a sweet one; a bit of commentary follows –

 

Flees so the phantom meadow
Before the breathless Bee –
So bubble brooks in deserts –
On ears that dying lie –
Burn so the evening spires
To eyes that Closing go –
Hangs so distant Heaven –
To a hand below.

[Emily Dickinson]

This is all about pining, that innate longing humans have for our true home apart from this world. Here’s a challenge – live like you’re already there. Bring Heaven to Earth, whatever that means to you.

Love –

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25 A sepal – a petal – and a thorn

This playful ditty was written in the late summer of 1858.

 

A sepal – petal – and a thorn
Opon a common summer’s morn –
A flask of Dew – A Bee or two –
A Breeze – a’caper in the trees –
And I’m a Rose!

[Emily Dickinson]

Whatever the weather may be, it’s a beautiful day to get a little drunk on nature!

Peace –

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24 Frequently the woods are pink

Written in summer 1858, copied into Fascicle I. An ode to Nature’s constancy and variety –

 

Frequently the woods are pink –
Frequently are brown.
Frequently the hills undress
Behind my native town.
Oft a head is crested
I was wont to see –
And as oft a cranny
Where it used to be –
And the Earth – they tell me –
On it’s axis turned!
Wonderful Rotation!
By but twelve performed!

[Emily Dickinson]

Namaste –

 

23 In the name of the bee

Written late summer 1858, age 27. 23 is my favorite number, and this poem has long been a favorite – the beauty of paralleling the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit with the Bee, the Butterfly, and the Breeze – apt, playful, AND respectful. J’adore.

In the name of the Bee –
And of the Butterfly –
And of the Breeze – Amen!

[Emily Dickinson]

Love –


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22 A brief but patient illness

Written late summer 1858, aged 27. Such whimsicality as this comes as we allow ourselves to live fully with Nature –

 

 

A brief, but patient illness –
An hour to prepare –
And one below, this morning
Is where the angels are –
It was a short procession –
The Bobolink was there –
And aged Bee addressed us –
And then we knelt in prayer –
We trust that she was willing –
We ask that we may be –
Summer – Sister – Seraph!
Let us go with thee!

[Emily Dickinson]

Namaste –

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