A daily poem from the complete works of Emily Dickinson.
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She lay as if at play
Her life had leaped away –
Intending to return –
But not so soon –
Her merry Arms, half dropt –
As if for lull of sport –
An instant had forgot –
The Trick to start –
Her dancing Eyes — ajar –
As if their Owner were
Still sparkling through
For fun — at you –
Her Morning at the door –
Devising, I am sure –
To force her sleep –
So light — so deep –
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I felt my life with both my hands
To see if it was there –
I held my spirit to the Glass,
To prove it possibler –
I turned my Being round and round
And paused at every pound
To ask the Owner’s name –
For doubt, that I should know the Sound –
I judged my features — jarred my hair –
I pushed my dimples by, and waited –
If they — twinkled back –
Conviction might, of me –
I told myself, “Take Courage, Friend –
That — was a former time –
But we might learn to like the Heaven,
As well as our Old Home!”
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