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I cannot meet the spring unmoved


The garden is bursting with spring energy, making me restless, thinking about transitions.

Words to walk with:
By Emily Dickinson
"I cannot meet the Spring unmoved --
I feel the old desire --
A Hurry with a lingering, mixed,
A Warrant to be fair --

A Competition in my sense
With something hid in Her --
And as she vanishes, Remorse
I saw no more of Her. "

Comments

  1. I do like the poetry of Emily Dickinson. I have vision of that poor last upstairs in the attic scribbling verse after verse upon scraps of paper.

    They are beautifully delicate flowers. The jpg is labelled blossom: what sort of blossom?

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  2. Cherry blossom. They start off pink but open up white.

    Perhaps scribbling verse on scraps of paper is the olde worlde equivalent to blogging every day.

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  3. Had not thought of that, but good point. What we do in the blogosphere seems so transient, though. I guess because we cannot see a pile accumulating and because so many other people are doing it that the currency is devalued.

    Cherry Blossom: I have never looked up close at an individual bloom. It is a delicate pastel - even down to shape if that makes sense.

    Now have to go away and find out the nuance between bloom and blossom.

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  4. It's a great time of year to be alive!

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