Some keep the Sabbath going to Church –
I keep it, staying at Home –
With a Bobolink for a Chorister –
And an Orchard, for a Dome –
Some keep the Sabbath in Surplice –
I, just wear my Wings –
And instead of tolling the Bell, for Church,
Our little Sexton – sings.
God preaches, a noted Clergyman –
And the sermon is never long,
So instead of getting to Heaven, at last –
I’m going, all along.
Emily Dickinson, published 1864
*I cannot even believe how fresh and appropriate this poem remains. Everything she says here resonates with me deeply! Here’s a very interesting link about the rediscovery of her gardens that The General found for me yesterday. I find this type of thing super uplifting after a week of the “real news” …
Beautiful!!
I love this. Your pieces are works of art.