The Sky is low – the Clouds are mean.
A Travelling Flake of Snow
Across a Barn or through a Rut
Debates if it will go-
A Narrow Wind complains all Day
How some one treated him
Nature, like Us is sometimes caught
Without her Diadem.
Final Harvest, Emily Dickinson. 414 (1075) page 241.
Gavin, smile at that Narrow Wind. You’ll see him often and it should never ruin your mind. And though clouds truly can be mean let the debates take place and observe- Nature is not against you.
And if you’re able to catch the snow flake, do. Smile and let the rest wonder.
It’s a chilly October day and you are just 34 days old in this picture.
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Look at that little bright-eyed, alert (intelligent) face! Tears in my eyes, maternal/love hormones activated. Babies are the closest to pure spirit we will ever get in human form. They radiate healing energy. Former Newborn ICU nurse here.)
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We have much to show him 🙂 and this father can’t wait! I have wanted this moment my entire adult life. I agree with your thoughts on newborns. I can’t imagine all of the things you witnessed and how those memories may have impacted your life. Thank you for the kind comment!
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You are most welcome!
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And you’re writing poetry to him! Okay .. I’ll stop now – thanks for indulging me. 🙂
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These little ones bring the best out of you
Enjoy it while you can
It goes fast
As always Sheldon
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Thanks Friend and good morning.
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Oh wow! I just imagined your kid, all grown up years from now reading your blog. So beautiful!
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Thank you and Cheers!
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Reblogged this on mtaggartwriter and commented:
It’s always nice to revisit Emily Dickinson’s work.
The Sky is low – the Clouds are mean.
A Travelling Flake of Snow
Across a Barn or through a Rut
Debates if it will go-
-Emily Dickinson. To read Emily’s full poem read the original post.
And as always, Cheers!
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