We grow accustomed to the Dark

 

Image Credit: Pexels@Pixabay

We grow accustomed to the Dark —

When light is put away —

As when the Neighbor holds the Lamp

To witness her Goodbye —

A Moment — We uncertain step

For newness of the night —

Then — fit our Vision to the Dark —

And meet the Road — erect —

And so of larger — Darknesses —

Those Evenings of the Brain —

When not a Moon disclose a sign —

Or Star — come out — within —

The Bravest — grope a little —

And sometimes hit a Tree

Directly in the Forehead —

But as they learn to see —

Either the Darkness alters —

Or something in the sight

Adjusts itself to Midnight —

And Life steps almost straight.

~ Emily Dickinson

I Felt A Funeral, In My Brain

Source: Forbes

I felt a funeral in my brain,

And mourners, to and fro,

Kept treading, treading, till it seemed

That sense was breaking through.

And when they all were seated,

A service like a drum

Kept beating, beating, till I thought

My mind was going numb.

And then I heard them lift a box,

And creak across my soul

With those same boots of lead,

Then space began to toll

As all the heavens were a bell,

And Being but an ear,

And I and silence some strange race,

Wrecked, solitary, here.

And then a plank in reason, broke,

And I dropped down and down—

And hit a world at every plunge,

And finished knowing—then—

~ Emily Dickinson

I Felt A Funeral, In My Brain

Source: Forbes

I felt a funeral in my brain,

And mourners, to and fro,

Kept treading, treading, till it seemed

That sense was breaking through.

And when they all were seated,

A service like a drum

Kept beating, beating, till I thought

My mind was going numb.

And then I heard them lift a box,

And creak across my soul

With those same boots of lead,

Then space began to toll

As all the heavens were a bell,

And Being but an ear,

And I and silence some strange race,

Wrecked, solitary, here.

And then a plank in reason, broke,

And I dropped down and down—

And hit a world at every plunge,

And finished knowing—then—

~ Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson and Elvis Presley in Heaven

They call each other “E”. Elvis picks

wildflowers near the river and brings

them to Emily. She explains half-rhymes to him.

In heaven Emily wears her hair long, sports

Levis and western blouses with rhinestones.

Elvis is lean again, wears baggy trousers

and T-shirts, a letterman’s jacket from Tupelo High.

They take long walks and often hold hands.

She prefers they remain just friends. Forever.

Emily’s poems now contain naugahyde, Cadillacs,

Electricity, jets, TV, Little Richard and Richard

Nixon. The rock-a-billy rhythm makes her smile.

Elvis likes himself with style. This afternoon

he will play guitar and sing “I Taste a Liquor

Never Brewed” to the tune of “Love Me Tender.”

Emily will clap and harmonize. Alone

in their cabins later, they’ll listen to the river

and nap. They will not think of Amherst

or Las Vegas. They know why God made them

roommates. It’s because America

was their hometown. It’s because

God is a thing without

feathers. It’s because

God wears blue suede shoes.

~ Hans Ostrom

Emily Dickinson and Elvis Presley in Heaven

They call each other “E”. Elvis picks

wildflowers near the river and brings

them to Emily. She explains half-rhymes to him.

In heaven Emily wears her hair long, sports

Levis and western blouses with rhinestones.

Elvis is lean again, wears baggy trousers

and T-shirts, a letterman’s jacket from Tupelo High.

They take long walks and often hold hands.

She prefers they remain just friends. Forever.

Emily’s poems now contain naugahyde, Cadillacs,

Electricity, jets, TV, Little Richard and Richard

Nixon. The rock-a-billy rhythm makes her smile.

Elvis likes himself with style. This afternoon

he will play guitar and sing “I Taste a Liquor

Never Brewed” to the tune of “Love Me Tender.”

Emily will clap and harmonize. Alone

in their cabins later, they’ll listen to the river

and nap. They will not think of Amherst

or Las Vegas. They know why God made them

roommates. It’s because America

was their hometown. It’s because

God is a thing without

feathers. It’s because

God wears blue suede shoes.

~ Hans Ostrom

A Book

There is no frigate like a book

To take us lands away,

Nor any coursers like a page

Of prancing poetry.

This traverse may the poorest take

Without oppress of toll;

How frugal is the chariot

That bears a human soul!

~ Emily Dickinson

A Book

There is no frigate like a book

To take us lands away,

Nor any coursers like a page

Of prancing poetry.

This traverse may the poorest take

Without oppress of toll;

How frugal is the chariot

That bears a human soul!

~ Emily Dickinson

There is another sky

There is another sky,

Ever serene and fair,

And there is another sunshine,

Though it be darkness there;

Never mind faded forests, Austin,

Never mind silent fields -

Here is a little forest,

Whose leaf is ever green;

Here is a brighter garden,

Where not a frost has been;

In its unfading flowers

I hear the bright bee hum:

Prithee, my brother,

Into my garden come!

~ Emily Dickinson

There is another sky

There is another sky,

Ever serene and fair,

And there is another sunshine,

Though it be darkness there;

Never mind faded forests, Austin,

Never mind silent fields -

Here is a little forest,

Whose leaf is ever green;

Here is a brighter garden,

Where not a frost has been;

In its unfading flowers

I hear the bright bee hum:

Prithee, my brother,

Into my garden come!

~ Emily Dickinson

My Faith is larger than the Hills

Photo credit: danielito from morguefile.com

My Faith is larger than the Hills --

So when the Hills decay --

My Faith must take the Purple Wheel

To show the Sun the way --

'Tis first He steps upon the Vane --

And then -- upon the Hill --

And then abroad the World He go

To do His Golden Will --

And if His Yellow feet should miss --

The Bird would not arise --

The Flowers would slumber on their Stems --

No Bells have Paradise --

How dare I, therefore, stint a faith

On which so vast depends --

Lest Firmament should fail for me --

The Rivet in the Bands

~ Emily Dickinson

My Faith is larger than the Hills

Photo credit: danielito from morguefile.com

My Faith is larger than the Hills --

So when the Hills decay --

My Faith must take the Purple Wheel

To show the Sun the way --

'Tis first He steps upon the Vane --

And then -- upon the Hill --

And then abroad the World He go

To do His Golden Will --

And if His Yellow feet should miss --

The Bird would not arise --

The Flowers would slumber on their Stems --

No Bells have Paradise --

How dare I, therefore, stint a faith

On which so vast depends --

Lest Firmament should fail for me --

The Rivet in the Bands

~ Emily Dickinson

Love

Have you got a brook in your little heart,

Where bashful flowers blow,

And blushing birds go down to drink,

And shadows tremble so?

And nobody, knows, so still it flows,

That any brook is there;

And yet your little draught of life

Is daily drunken there.

Then look out for the little brook in March,

When the rivers overflow,

And the snows come hurrying from the hills,

And the bridges often go.

And later, in August it may be,

When the meadows parching lie,

Beware, lest this little brook of life

Some burning noon go dry!

~ Emily Dickinson

____________________________________________

There are many things in life that will catch your eye, but only a few will catch your heart...pursue those. ~ Michael Nolan

Love

Have you got a brook in your little heart,

Where bashful flowers blow,

And blushing birds go down to drink,

And shadows tremble so?

And nobody, knows, so still it flows,

That any brook is there;

And yet your little draught of life

Is daily drunken there.

Then look out for the little brook in March,

When the rivers overflow,

And the snows come hurrying from the hills,

And the bridges often go.

And later, in August it may be,

When the meadows parching lie,

Beware, lest this little brook of life

Some burning noon go dry!

~ Emily Dickinson

____________________________________________

There are many things in life that will catch your eye, but only a few will catch your heart...pursue those. ~ Michael Nolan

The Flower must not blame the Bee

The Flower must not blame the Bee --
 That seeketh his felicity
 Too often at her door -- 

 But teach the Footman from Vevay --
 Mistress is "not at home" -- to say --
 To people -- any more!

~ by Emily Dickinson

The Flower must not blame the Bee

The Flower must not blame the Bee --
 That seeketh his felicity
 Too often at her door -- 

 But teach the Footman from Vevay --
 Mistress is "not at home" -- to say --
 To people -- any more!

~ by Emily Dickinson

I Cannot Live With You

I cannot live with You –
It would be Life –
And Life is over there –
Behind the Shelf


The Sexton keeps the Key to –
Putting up
Our Life – His porcelain -
Like a Cup –


Discarded of the Housewife –
Quaint – or Broke –
A newer Sevres pleases –
Old Ones crack –


I could not die – with You –
For One must wait
To shut the Other’s Gaze down –
You – could not –


And I – Could I stand by
And see You – freeze –
Without my Right of Frost –
Death’s privilege?


Nor could I rise – with You –
Because Your Face
Would put out Jesus’ –
That New Grace


Glow plain – and foreign
On my homesick Eye –
Except that You than He
Shone closer by –


They’d judge Us – How –
For You – served Heaven – You know,
Or sought to –
I could not –


Because You saturated Sight –
And I had not more Eyes
For sordid excellence
As Paradise


And were You lost, I would be –
Though My Name
Rang loudest
On the Heavenly fame –


And were You – saved –
And I – condemned to be
Where You were not –
That self – were Hell to Me –


So We must meet apart –
You there – I – here –
With just the Door ajar
That Oceans are – and Prayer –
And that White Sustenance –
Despair –


- by Emily Dickinson

I Cannot Live With You

I cannot live with You –
It would be Life –
And Life is over there –
Behind the Shelf


The Sexton keeps the Key to –
Putting up
Our Life – His porcelain -
Like a Cup –


Discarded of the Housewife –
Quaint – or Broke –
A newer Sevres pleases –
Old Ones crack –


I could not die – with You –
For One must wait
To shut the Other’s Gaze down –
You – could not –


And I – Could I stand by
And see You – freeze –
Without my Right of Frost –
Death’s privilege?


Nor could I rise – with You –
Because Your Face
Would put out Jesus’ –
That New Grace


Glow plain – and foreign
On my homesick Eye –
Except that You than He
Shone closer by –


They’d judge Us – How –
For You – served Heaven – You know,
Or sought to –
I could not –


Because You saturated Sight –
And I had not more Eyes
For sordid excellence
As Paradise


And were You lost, I would be –
Though My Name
Rang loudest
On the Heavenly fame –


And were You – saved –
And I – condemned to be
Where You were not –
That self – were Hell to Me –


So We must meet apart –
You there – I – here –
With just the Door ajar
That Oceans are – and Prayer –
And that White Sustenance –
Despair –


- by Emily Dickinson

Life

THE soul selects her own society,
Then shuts the door;
On her divine majority
Obtrude no more.

Unmoved, she notes the chariot’s pausing
At her low gate;
Unmoved, an emperor is kneeling
Upon her mat.

I ’ve known her from an ample nation
Choose one;
Then close the valves of her attention
Like stone.

----- by Emily Dickinson

Life

THE soul selects her own society,
Then shuts the door;
On her divine majority
Obtrude no more.

Unmoved, she notes the chariot’s pausing
At her low gate;
Unmoved, an emperor is kneeling
Upon her mat.

I ’ve known her from an ample nation
Choose one;
Then close the valves of her attention
Like stone.

----- by Emily Dickinson