
Spring has exploded. The skeletal trees are filling up fast. Yesterday what was blossoming is now leafing. This is my first spring in Virginia. I am loving the grass and our backyard cows as they meander back and forth in the field behind us.
Since you enjoyed last week’s poem, here’s another. This time by Emily Dickinson.
“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.”
The urgency. Hurry up and get an eyeful–no sooner does Spring arrive than it’s gone. I find myself staring hard at each daffodil, each dogwood. I take deep breaths of the hyacinth and the dirt and listen to the conversations of the Cardinal and Robin.
Welcome back, the color green!