"Maybe if we reinvent whatever our lives give us we find poems." --Naomi Shihab Nye
A Light exists in SpringNot present on the YearAt any other period —When March is scarcely hereA Color stands abroadOn Solitary FieldsThat Science cannot overtakeBut Human Nature feels.It waits upon the Lawn,It shows the furthest TreeUpon the furthest Slope you knowIt almost speaks to you.Then as Horizons stepOr Noons report awayWithout the Formula of soundIt passes and we stay —A quality of lossAffecting our ContentAs Trade had suddenly encroachedUpon a Sacrament.
--Emily Dickinson
When the night wind makes the pine trees creak And the pale clouds glide across the dark sky, Go out my child, go out and seek Your soul: ...
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