This week's poem was written by one of my favorite poets of all time, Emily Dickinson. I found this poem in my email inbox from a site called Your Daily Poem. If you sign up, you too can receive a delightful poem in your email every day! It's a slice of awesomeness among all of the craziness that it my inbox!
Without further ado, here is our poem of the week:
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 you know
It almost speaks to you.
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.
