A daily poem from the complete works of Emily Dickinson.
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Not in this World to see his face –
Sounds long — until I read the place
Where this — is said to be
But just the Primer — to a life –
Unopened — rare — Upon the Shelf –
Clasped yet — to Him — and Me –
And yet — My Primer suits me so
I would not choose — a Book to know
Than that — be sweeter wise –
Might some one else — so learned — be –
And leave me — just my A — B — C –
Himself — could have the Skies –
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Of Course — I prayed –
And did God Care?
He cared as much as on the Air
A Bird — had stamped her foot –
And cried “Give Me” –
My Reason — Life –
I had not had — but for Yourself –
‘Twere better Charity
To leave me in the Atom’s Tomb –
Merry, and Nought, and gay, and numb –
Than this smart Misery.
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They leave us with the Infinite.
But He — is not a man –
His fingers are the size of fists –
His fists, the size of men –
And whom he foundeth, with his Arm
As Himmaleh, shall stand –
Gibraltar’s Everlasting Shoe
Poised lightly on his Hand,
So trust him, Comrade –
You for you, and I, for you and me
Eternity is ample,
And quick enough, if true.
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