46 Before the ice is in the pools

 

Before the ice is in the pools –
Before the skaters go,
Or any cheek at nightfall
Is tarnished by the snow –

Before the fields have finished –
Before the Christmas tree,
Wonder opon wonder –
Will arrive to me!

What we touch the hems of
On a summer’s day –
What is only walking
Just a bridge away –

That which sings so – speaks so –
When there’s no one here –
Will the frock I wept in
Answer me to wear?

[Emily Dickinson]

Written late 1858 and bound into fascicle 2.

Ah, Nature. Summer. Time. What a thrill it is to be alive!

Love and Namaste –

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32 The morns are meeker than they were

We’ve entered Fascicle 3! I swear I haven’t skipped around, the poems naturally jump from 1 to 3 this way. We’ll see if 2 comes up later on. Now it’s Fall of 1858, and, of course, she captures the change of season in her language –

 

The morns are meeker than they were –
The nuts are getting brown –
The berry’s cheek is plumper –
The Rose is out of town.

The maple wears a gayer scarf –
The field a scarlet gown –
Lest I sh’d be old fashioned
I’ll put a trinket on.

[Emily Dickinson]

How can one ever hope to keep up with Nature’s everchanging beauty? Simply, one cannot. I’ll tell you a secret – beauty isn’t a contest. It’s not a zero sum game. We can all be abundantly beautiful, and celebrating each other’s beauty intensifies our own. Find beauty in everything and you will find beauty in yourself; we reflect what we see in the world.

Namaste, beautiful –

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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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21 The gentian weaves her fringes

Written in late summer of 1858, found on the last page of Fascicle I – I think we have about ten left in this one before moving to Autumn.┬áThis poem is a celebration of natural beauty –

 

The Gentian weaves her fringes –
The Maple’s loom is red –
My departing blossoms
Obviate parade.

[Emily Dickinson]

The Gentian and Maple don’t question, choose, or hide their colors or shapes – they simply are. As people, as women or men – as humans – we are blossoms; beautiful as is, without makeup or fancy clothes or a thousand instagram followers. Our truest beauty lies in the simplicity, the purity of our existence, and walking in this truth renders all pomp and circumstance superfluous.

Remember – you are beautiful. Simply, purely as you are.

Love –

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17 It’s all I have to bring today

This lovely ditty was written in the summer of 1858. Ah, the moments when the heart is so full, it’s all there is –

 

 

It’s all I have to bring today
This, and my heart beside –
This, and my heart, and all the fields –
And all the meadows wide –
Be sure you count – sh’d I forget
Some one the sum could tell –
This, and my heart, and all the Bees
Which in the Clover dwell.

[Emily Dickinson]

We are so enough. Let’s relish the fullness of life.

Love –

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8 When roses cease to bloom, sir

Written summer 1858. Deceptively simple inspiration.

 

When Roses cease to bloom, Sir,
And Violets are done –
When Bumblebees in solemn flight
Have passed beyond the Sun –
The hand that paused to gather
Opon this Summer’s day
Will idle lie – in Auburn –
Then take my flowers – pray!

[Emily Dickinson]

In beauty –

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7 Summer for thee, grant I may be

Written summer 1858. Brief and lovely – you’ll see as we move further through her poetry just how efficient she is with words. Enjoy –

 

Summer for thee, grant I may be
When Summer days are flown!
Thy music still, when Whippowil
And Oriole – are done!

For thee to bloom, I’ll skip the tomb
And row my blossoms o’er!
Pray gather me –
Anemone –
Thy flower – forevermore!

[Emily Dickinson]

With love –

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