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.Emily Dickinson
This is one of my favourite winter poems…the words ring true on any winter afternoon here in the north…that strange light that breaks through the darkest clouds only to disappear within minutes…
I have been inspired by this poem before and no doubt I will be again…Toronto, Ontario, Canada…
Watercolour on Arches Paper…