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.
-Emily Dickinson
Gladsome Lights 
When you think of her life — and then how well she encapsulates things beyond her scope, it is amazing.
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I guess they weren’t beyond her scope at all!
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She’s got it.
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I was just admiring the morning sun on our dew-soaked bit of lawn, making the leaves of alstroemerias sparkle, weaving its way through the purple leaves of the chaste tree.
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