Overnight my campus exploded in blossoms! I saw these pink blossoms right outside of one of my classes and they made me think of an Emily Dickinson poem, #1255.
Longing is like the seed
That wrestles in the Ground
Believing if it intercede
It shall at length be found.
The Hour, and the Clime-
Each Circumstance unknown,
What Constancy must be achieved
Before it see the Sun!
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3 comments:
thanks for removing me from your list of cool sites
you don't blog anymore, do you still want it up there?
Like the meaning of a poem or a painting, or the petals of a water-lily bud
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