Imbibing Spring


Poet Emily Dickinson is one who speaks to me through her verse, as below, when she describes the sheer, intoxicating joy of reveling in Nature’s beauty. I, too, have been an Inebriate of air, reeling through endless summer days; I, too, have found spiritual sustenance in Nature.

I taste a liquor never brewed,
From tankards scooped in pearl;
Not all the vats upon the Rhine
Yield such an alcohol!

Inebriate of air am I,
And debauchee of dew, 
Reeling, through endless summer days, 
From inns of molten blue.

When landlords turn the drunken bee 
Out of the foxglove’s door, 
When butterflies renounce their drams, 
I shall but drink the more!

Till seraphs swing their snowy hats, 
And saints to windows run, 
To see the little tippler 
Leaning against the sun!

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