Sunday, February 6, 2011
Nature: Part Two, XXI - An Awful Tempest Mashed the Air by Emily Dickinson
An awful tempest mashed the air,
The clouds were gaunt and few;
A black, as of a spectre's cloak,
Hid heaven and earth from view.
The creatures chuckled on the roofs
And whistled in the air,
And shook their fists and gnashed their teeth,
And swung their frenzied hair.
The morning lit, the birds arose;
The monster's faded eyes
Turned slowly to his native coast,
And peace was Paradise!
(NOTE: Dickinson’s life of the imagination formed the transcendental bridge to modern American poetry. She experimented with expression to free it from conventional restraints. Go Emily! From Complete Poems, (597) Part One: Life, Part Two: Nature, Part Three: Love, Part Four: Time & Eternity, and Part Five: The Single Hound. Dickinson was born in 1830 in Amherst, Mass.)