that Dark
I don’t read a ton of poetry. I’ve got a nice-looking volume of selected Emily Dickinson poems, just sitting there. I thought I should start opening it up occasionally . . . and today I found a thought-provoking poem:
The feet of people walking home
With gayer sandals go -
The crocus – till she rises -
The vassal of the snow -
The lips at Hallelujah
Long years of practise bore -
Till bye and bye, these Bargemen
Walked – singing – on the shore
Pearls are the Diver’s farthings
Extorted form the sea -
Pinions – the Seraph’s wagon -
Pedestrian once – as we -
Night is the morning’s canvas -
Larceny – legacy -
Death – but our rapt attention
To immortality.
My figures fail to tell me
How far the village lies -
Whose peasants are the angels -
Whose cantons dot the skies -
My Classics vail their faces -
My faith that Dark adores -
Which from it’s solemn abbeys -
Such resurrection pours!
I like the last stanza especially. I think it’s talking about Heaven. Those three final lines are striking to me. She seems to be talking about how human intelligence and recorded knowledge can’t explain angels or heaven. But for her, not knowing (aka “that dark”) gives her room for faith.
Source: version 1 of “The feet of people walking home,” via Wikisource.)