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Friday, April 19, 2013

Spring morning light

Spring is budding.
Light lilts through infant leaves.
Cool, crisp air cuts through morning clouds.
Dew on the new-green grass.
Spring is budding.

A Light Exists in Spring
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 hills
That science cannot overtake,
But human nature feels.

It waits upon the lawn;
It shows the furthest tree
Upon the furthest slope we know;
It almost speaks to me.

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. 

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