“There’s a certain slant of light,
On winter afternoons,
That oppresses, like the weight
Of cathedral tunes.
Heavenly hurt it gives us;
We can find no scar,
But internal difference
Where the meanings are.
None may teach it anything,
‘Tis the seal, despair,-
An imperial affliction
Sent us of the air.
When it comes, the landscape listens,
Shadows hold their breath;
When it goes, ‘t is like the distance
On the look of death.”
Shadows hold their breath;
When it goes, ‘t is like the distance
On the look of death.”
–Emily Dickinson
I thought of this poem today. I can’t remember if I have posted on it before but it is one of my favorites and seemed appropriate for the last of the Haunted series. Tomorrow evening I will board my flight back to France after such a wonderful, happy time. It passed in the blink of an eye as I knew it would. Now it is the beginning of the in-between time when I am not quite here nor there. I’ll hold my heart tight as the light shines from between my fingers, waiting to see where I will be on the other side of the dawn.
Thanks so much Jeanne. That is exactly why I thought of this poem!
Sister, I got teary-eyed just reading this. Me too.
Thanks so much, Aidan. How lovely of you to say that! 🙂
Oh yay! Will hop on over to see!
Absolutely beautiful pictures. Thanks for sharing.
Travel safe! Beautiful poem, beautiful photos — you can see the landscape listening. XO
So beautiful – just like you!
I'm going to miss you so much! : (
Love the way you connected the poem with the pictures. I wonder what ED would have written if she went to France…
Safe journey.
Welcoming you back to France with open arms. I know so well the feeling of in between.
Aidan x
Such a beautiful poem.
Thanks again for your lovely awards. I have finally posted them on my blog with 5 things about myself & passed another 5 along 🙂
~ Clare x