A daily poem from the complete works of Emily Dickinson.
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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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Before I got my eye put out
I liked as well to see –
As other Creatures, that have Eyes
And know no other way –
But were it told to me — Today –
That I might have the sky
For mine — I tell you that my Heart
Would split, for size of me –
The Meadows — mine –
The Mountains — mine –
All Forests — Stintless Stars –
As much of Noon as I could take
Between my finite eyes –
The Motions of the Dipping Birds –
The Morning’s Amber Road –
For mine — to look at when I liked –
The News would strike me dead –
So safer — guess — with just my soul
Upon the Window pane –
Where other Creatures put their eyes –
Incautious — of the Sun –
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