Linda's Literary Home

Tag: poetry

  • Emily Dickinson’s “Two Butterflies went out at Noon”

    Image: Emily Dickinson - Amherst College - Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 - likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet
    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet

    Emily Dickinson’s “Two Butterflies went out at Noon”

    Emily Dickinson possessed the gift of mystic vision, and that vision is displayed brilliantly in this enchanting poem that dramatizes two butterflies embarking on a mystical flight. The poem offers a glimpse into Dickinson’s ability to blend nature with transcendental themes.

    Introduction and Text of “Two Butterflies went out at Noon”

    In Emily Dickinson’s “Two Butterflies went out at Noon” (#533 in Thomas H. Johnson’s The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson), the speaker is dramatizing an imaginary flight of two butterflies that ease out on a amazing journey.

    Emily Dickinson creates a speaker, whose mystical vision is revealed in many of her poems, and this one serves as one of the finest examples of that vision.  Her insightful gift accompanies her gift for creating little dramas that feature snippets of that insight in poetic form.

    Two Butterflies went out at Noon

    Two Butterflies went out at Noon –
    And waltzed above a Farm –
    Then stepped straight through the Firmament
    And rested on a Beam –

    And then – together bore away
    Upon a shining Sea –
    Though never yet, in any Port –
    Their coming mentioned–be –

    If spoken by the distant Bird –
    If met in Ether Sea
    By Frigate, or by Merchantman –
    No notice – was – to me –

    Commentary on “Two Butterflies went out at Noon”

    In Emily Dickinson’s “Two Butterflies went out at Noon,” the speaker dramatizes an imaginary flight of two butterflies embarking on an extraordinary journey.   This poem exemplifies Dickinson’s mystical vision and her ability to craft poetic dramas that explore profound human themes through metaphorical imagery. It is a masterful example of her unique poetic voice.

    First Stanza: Mysterious Arrival

    Two Butterflies went out at Noon –
    And waltzed above a Farm –
    Then stepped straight through the Firmament
    And rested on a Beam –

    The speaker begins with the simple yet intriguing statement, “Two Butterflies went out at Noon.” The butterflies’ sudden appearance is mysterious; they seemingly emerge from nowhere, unbound by any specific origin. 

    Their only marker is time—”Noon”—which suggests a moment of illumination or clarity. This temporal detail invites readers to ponder their symbolic significance as creatures of light and transformation.

    The butterflies “waltzed above a Farm,” an image that evokes grace and harmony. Their movement suggests a carefree dance, embodying the beauty of nature’s fleeting moments. 

    The farm below serves as a grounding contrast to their ethereal presence, emphasizing their transcendence. Yet, their origin remains unknown, adding an air of mystery to their appearance and suggesting they are more than merely the physical beings well-known as butterflies.

    The speaker does not clarify her own location during this observation, leaving readers to wonder whether she is physically present or perceiving them through an inner, mystical,  transcendental vision. 

    After their graceful waltz, the butterflies “stepped straight through the Firmament,” ascending beyond the earthly realm into the heavens. This transition marks their departure from tangible reality into a cosmic or spiritual dimension.

    Once beyond the firmament, the butterflies “rested on a Beam.” The beam could symbolize a ray of sunlight or divine energy, reinforcing their connection to higher realms. 

    This imagery suggests that the speaker’s perception extends beyond ordinary sight; she sees with an inner eye attuned to spiritual truths. The butterflies become metaphors for thoughts or souls—ephemeral entities that transcend physical boundaries.

    Dickinson’s speaker’s metaphorical comparison likens these butterflies to thoughts—mysterious, fleeting, and boundless. Just as thoughts arise spontaneously and traverse unseen realms, so do these butterflies appear suddenly and vanish into intangible spaces with grace and speed. 

    The journey of these special butterflies mirrors the movement of ideas or spiritual insights that come unbidden and often disappear just as quickly.  The nature of flight coincides with the nature of speed and lightness.

    Second Stanza: Ephemeral Thoughts

    And then – together bore away
    Upon a shining Sea –
    Though never yet, in any Port –
    Their coming mentioned–be –

    In the second stanza, the butterflies continue their journey “Upon a shining Sea.” This sea symbolizes eternity or an infinite expanse, reflecting Dickinson’s  life-long fascination with transcendence and the soul’s voyage beyond earthly confines. 

    The imagery evokes a sense of boundlessness, as the butterflies glide effortlessly over this luminous ocean without needing any vessel to carry them.  Just as the soul, and even the mind, may seem to glide effortlessly from thought to feeling and back again.

    The speaker notes that these remarkable butterfly-thoughts never stop at “any Port.” Their journey is uninterrupted by mundane destinations; they pass through existence without anchoring themselves in any fixed location. This detail emphasizes their ephemeral nature—they are not bound by material concerns but remain free to traverse limitless realms.

    The absence of any mention of their arrival further underscores their elusiveness. The speaker suggests that if their presence had been detected in any port along their journey, it surely would have been noted or remarked upon by someone. Yet no such acknowledgment exists, heightening the sense of mystery surrounding their destination and purpose.

    This seamless movement evokes wonder about where these itinerant butterflies will go next. Their path seems guided by an unseen force, reflecting Dickinson’s belief in the unseen powers that govern existence. 

    The butterflies’ journey becomes a metaphor for fleeting thoughts or spiritual revelations—beautiful yet transient experiences that defy capture or explanation.  Even understanding by mental power exists beyond their realm.

    Through this stanza, Dickinson’s speaker invites readers to reflect on the nature of impermanence and the ineffable qualities of spiritual experiences. The shining sea represents both possibility and mystery, a realm where boundaries dissolve and transformation occurs.

    Third Stanza: Evading the Ultimate

    If spoken by the distant Bird –
    If met in Ether Sea
    By Frigate, or by Merchantman –
    No notice – was – to me –

    In the final stanza, the speaker avoids answering where the butterflies ultimately settle, instead emphasizing their elusive nature. She speculates about who might have observed them since their departure but concludes that no one has reported seeing them again. This lack of information reinforces their otherworldly quality—they exist beyond human comprehension or observation.

    The speaker imagines possible witnesses who might have encountered these roaming butterflies: perhaps a “distant Bird” soaring high above or voyagers like frigates and merchantmen traversing vast seas.

    These figures symbolize different perspectives—natural creatures attuned to the skies and human explorers navigating uncharted waters, like Christopher Columbus. Yet even these potential observers provide no reports of the butterflies’ whereabouts.

    This absence of acknowledgment underscores their ethereal quality—they are invisible to ordinary perception and evade even those who might be best positioned to notice them. The butterflies symbolize fleeting thoughts or spiritual entities that traverse unseen dimensions, leaving no trace behind.

    The speaker herself admits that she has no concrete knowledge of their final destination. Even as she entertains these butterfly-thoughts within her mind, she acknowledges their elusive nature—they come and go without leaving tangible evidence of their presence. Only through poetic imagination can she capture and display them for others to experience.

    The speaker’s portrayal of these creatures reflects her longing for transcendence and her fascination with life’s mysteries. The poem becomes a devotional musing on impermanence, beauty, and the soul’s journey beyond the material level of existence.

    A Poetic Meditation on Transcendence

    In “Two Butterflies went out at Noon,” Emily Dickinson creates a speaker, who weaves an intricate tapestry of imagery and symbolism to explore themes of impermanence, transcendence, and spiritual insight. 

    The butterflies serve as metaphors for fleeting thoughts or souls—ephemeral entities that arise mysteriously, traverse unseen realms, and vanish without explanation—the nearly perfect description of the flight of thoughts and soul experience.

    Through her vivid descriptions and enigmatic narrative, Dickinson’s speaker invites readers to reflect on life’s mysteries and embrace the beauty of impermanence. The poem exemplifies her ability to transform simple observations into profound musings on existence, showcasing her unique poetic vision.

    Dickinson’s mystical perspective shines brightly in this work, offering readers not only a glimpse into her imaginative world but also an opportunity to contemplate their own journeys through life’s vast and mysterious landscapes.

    A musical rendition  

  • Emily Dickinson’s “I know a place where Summer strives”

    Image: Emily Dickinson - Amherst College - Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 - likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet
    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet

    Emily Dickinson’s “I know a place where Summer strives”

    In Emily Dickinson’s “I know a place where Summer strives,” the speaker personifies summer as a woman who struggles to overcome the coldness of late spring.

    Introduction with Text of  “I know a place where Summer strives”

    The poet especially loved summer, and in this fascinating poem, she allows her speaker to convert summer into a gardener who experiences the obstacles that sometimes accompany the difficult birth of the summer season.  

    Sometimes it seems that it takes great effort or striving to overcome the coldness of late spring in New England, where residents may suffer snow and frost before the warmth of summer blossoms into the promised reality.

    The poem offers a unique look at the arrival of the summer season. The speaker’s personification of summer as a woman tending her garden creates a magnificent drama that occurs every late spring.

    Emily Dickinson’s poem, “I know a place where Summer strives,” consists of three stanzas. Each stanza has the rime scheme ABCB.  The poems is #337 in Thomas H. Johnson’s The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson.

    I know a place where Summer strives

    I know a place where Summer strives
    With such a practised Frost –
    She – each year – leads her Daisies back –
    Recording briefly – “Lost” –

    But when the South Wind stirs the Pools
    And struggles in the lanes –
    Her Heart misgives Her, for Her Vow –
    And she pours soft Refrains

    Into the lap of Adamant –
    And spices – and the Dew –
    That stiffens quietly to Quartz –
    Upon her Amber Shoe –

    Commentary on “I know a place where Summer strives”

    In Emily Dickinson’s “I know a place where Summer strives,” the speaker personifies summer as a woman who struggles to overcome the coldness of late spring.

    First Stanza:  Summer Endeavoring to Become

    I know a place where Summer strives
    With such a practised Frost –
    She – each year – leads her Daisies back –
    Recording briefly – “Lost” –

    In the first stanza, the speaker makes the puzzling claim that she knows “a place where Summer strives.” This remark is startling; one does not think of seasons as having the ability or the need to “strive.”   

    Only people are capable of striving. But in this poem, the speaker is, in fact, dramatizing the onset of summer by personifying Summer as a woman; Summer becomes a gardener who is endeavoring to accomplish the arrival of the summer growing season. 

    Unlike those who find the arrival of each season an automatic transition that is hardly noticeable, this speaker dramatically reveals that sometimes the Summer growing season is won by fits and starts. The speaker says that Summer “strives / With such a practised Frost.”   

    Late spring can remain cold in New England, where Dickinson lived all of her life. So it would seem that summer sometimes had a difficult birth, contending with frost and even snow.  But Summer makes a great effort, and her endeavors result in bringing back the flowers, which seemed lost during the winter. 

    Second Stanza:   A Helping Hand

    But when the South Wind stirs the Pools
    And struggles in the lanes –
    Her Heart misgives Her, for Her Vow –
    And she pours soft Refrains

    The speaker then asserts that for all the difficult attempts at arriving, a situation arises that offers a helping hand to Summer in bringing the season to full bloom. The “South Wind stirs the Pools,” and a summer storm blows up. 

    But Summer then still has some doubt about her success, and she has a promise to keep in delivering summer qualities of warmth and fertility so that seeds in the ground may grow into viable plants for food for people and animals.   But then the rains begin, and Summer does absolutely arrive. All her striving has paid off.

    Third Stanza:  A Fierce Attempt

    Into the lap of Adamant –
    And spices – and the Dew –
    That stiffens quietly to Quartz –
    Upon her Amber Shoe –

    Summer “pours soft Refrains // Into the lap of Adamant”; she strives fiercely to arrive. She brings rain to the plants that will flourish during the growing season, which she had promised.  

    The rains will convert the landscape to a glowing green grassy hue that will illuminate the summer’s growing season.   The Summer as a woman will tend her garden, and she will get mud on her shoes.  That mud will become hardened like “Quartz.”  Thus “Sumner” will sport shoes of “Amber.”

    But happily, all her arduous striving will have succeeded: the flowers will gloriously come back.  The frost will have finally departed, and the summer rains will be moistening the thirsty mouths of the plants.  

    Marvelous spices will result from Summer’s loving care of sun and rain.  And even the gardener’s shoes will wear a beautiful “amber” because she has trampled in the mud caring for all the varieties of plants that help fill her larder for winter.

    Dickinson’s “I know a place where Summer strives” rendered in song  

  • The Flowers Are Bright Today

    Image: Created by Grok inspired by the poem
    Image: Created by Grok inspired by the poem

    The Flowers Are Bright Today

    The flowers are bright today.
    They take on an ethereal glow.
    They bloom in the flames of my tongue—
    And then remain silent.

    They give off joy from a sacred place.
    Their fragrance shies away from contempt.
    As dumb as trees, they speak a holy tongue.
    Noise has no sway with their beauty.

    They employ no mask to obfuscate dawn.
    They seek no retribution in the storm.
    They bend as needed—
    Not to a dictator but to their Liberator.

    In the fires of eternity, they sing eternally.
    They rock their love in the equation
    Where humankind wishes to exist.

  • Emily Dickinson’s “I cannot dance upon my Toes”

    Image: Emily Dickinson - Amherst College - Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 - likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet
    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet

    Emily Dickinson’s “I cannot dance upon my Toes”

    Famously, the poet Emily Dickinson lived a reclusive life.  She protected her privacy.  In her poetry canon, she often crafted little poetic dramas exploring and exposing the great joy her solitude afforded her. This poem is one of those little dramas.

    Introduction with Text of “I cannot dance upon my Toes”

    Emily Dickinson’s “I cannot dance upon my Toes” offers five stanzas, setting forth the poet’s famous slant rimes and non-traditional rhythms. The speaker is celebrating, with special emphasis, her personal experiences of “Glee.”

    She knows that her readers/listeners will readily perceive her comparison to great performances in dance, theater, and opera.  While her speaker does not link her joyous ecstasy to any particular public performances, she experiences great ecstatic bliss which she deems similar to the feelings heralded by such artistic displays.

    I cannot dance upon my Toes

    I cannot dance upon my Toes –
    No Man instructed me –
    But oftentimes, among my mind,
    A Glee possesseth me,

    That had I Ballet knowledge –
    Would put itself abroad
    In Pirouette to blanch a Troupe –
    Or lay a Prima, mad,

    And though I had no Gown of Gauze –
    No Ringlet, to my Hair,
    Nor hopped to Audiences – like Birds,
    One Claw upon the Air,

    Nor tossed my shape in Eider Balls,
    Nor rolled on wheels of snow
    Till I was out of sight, in sound,
    The House encore me so –

    Nor any know I know the Art
    I mention – easy –Here –
    Nor any Placard boast me –
    It’s full as Opera –

    Commentary on “I cannot dance upon my Toes”

    In Emily Dickinson’s “I cannot dance upon my Toes,” the speaker is creating a colorful poetic drama that examines the amazing joy afforded her through her engagement with solitude.

    First Quatrain:  The Joy of Dancing

    I cannot dance upon my Toes –
    No Man instructed me –
    But oftentimes, among my mind,
    A Glee possesseth me,

    The speaker asserts that she does not have the proficiency to dance as a ballerina would, because she has not received the necessary training and lessons that such dancers need to undergo. However, there are times during which she has the ability to experience indescribable joy of her soul.  She suggests that such joy may be similar to that experienced through ballet.

    The ability to dance upon one’s the toes remains a physical prowess, and very few individuals ever have the ability to reach such a lofty achievement.  Because such ability and talent remain so rare, the speaker assumes that those who have the talent to render such performances must then experience “Glee.”

    Second Quatrain:  Skill That Remains Amazing

    That had I Ballet knowledge –
    Would put itself abroad
    In Pirouette to blanch a Troupe –
    Or lay a Prima, mad,

    The speaker then reports that if she ever had the special talent and physical agility to dance upon her toes, she would experience a fantastic level of “Glee.”  The feeling would allow her to beam her talent as does the best of artists in the art of the ballet.

    She is sure that her amazing skill would put the prima ballerina to shame causing that dancer to become maddened.  The entire company of the ballet would become astonished by her amazing skill.

    The speaker’s exaggeration places emphasize upon her belief that her soul qualities alone are responsible for her actual talent, and she wishes to pay homage to the Divine Essence which bestows on her such abilities. 

    Third Quatrain:  No Fancy Outerwear

    And though I had no Gown of Gauze –
    No Ringlet, to my Hair,
    Nor hopped to Audiences –like Birds,
    One Claw upon the Air,

    In the third quatrain, the speaker reveals that she does not own gowns and gauze, as the famously public celebrity would possess.  She also does not have the ability to sport other fancy clothing as theatrical talent may do.  She also cannot have her hair styled into decorous fashion.  No make-up artists ever visit her to ply their wares. She will wear no ringlets in her hair.

    Because the speaker does not engage in the art of the ballet, she does not have the ability to fully comprehend that specialized art form.  She freely admits that she has never engaged and will never experience the feelings that ballet dancers do as they cavort and prance upon the stage “like Birds” with “One Claw upon the Air.”

    The speaker seems to express a modicum of disdain in describing the ballerinas as birds hopping across as stage with their hands in the air resembling the claw of a bird.  That fascinating image elevates the description as it so colorfully fits the event.

    Fourth Quatrain:  Keeping Life Simple

    Nor tossed my shape in Eider Balls,
    Nor rolled on wheels of snow
    Till I was out of sight, in sound,
    The House encore me so –

    The speaker then offers further images that reveal experiences which she has never had and likely never will experience.  For example, she has never “tossed” her body in “Eider Balls.”  Instead of the fancy, intricate costumes which ballerinas and opera singers wear, this speaker dresses herself in simple clothing. 

    She has never finished a performance by dancing out of sight of the audience.  She has never been called back to the stage by a ardent group of fans as they continue to applaud, prompting her to return to give them an enthusiastic “encore.”

    Fifth Quatrain:  Heavenly Rewards

    Nor any know I know the Art
    I mention –easy –Here –
    Nor any Placard boast me –
    It’s full as Opera –

    This speaker is demonstrating that she resides and thrives far outside of the milieu of ballet dancers.  She suspects that no one with whom she is acquainted would even have an inkling that she has ever become aware that such an art exists. 

    Through intuition, this speaker can comprehend that the value of her work and her ultimate worth are equal to –if, in fact, they do not overtake in value –that of the performances that have received so many accolades of praise.  

    She is convinced that her accolades remain on a mystical level of being.  Therefore, she can dance upon her toes –if only metaphorically and mystically –through her God-given talents reserved especially for her.

    Through this speaker, the poet has paid tribute to her poetic talent and even, at least in her own mind, has elevated her own talent.  In effect, she is averring that she is quite content to be unknown poet.  

    Even having the ability to be a celebrated prima ballerina cannot complete with the joy she experiences through her poetry creation.  Her garden of verse offers her her own stage for performance that makes it possible for her to live a complete life.

  • Emily Dickinson’s “I’ll tell you how the Sun rose”

    Image: Emily Dickinson - Amherst College - Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 - likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet
    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet

    Emily Dickinson’s “I’ll tell you how the Sun rose”

    The speaker in Dickinson’s poem “I’ll tell you how the Sun rose” is dramatizing what she knows about the sunrise but then hazards only a dramatic guess about sunset. Her choice for the target of her knowledge transforms the simple of act sunrise into a symbol.

    Introduction with Text of “I’ll tell you how the Sun rose”

    Emily Dickinson’s poem “I’ll tell you how the Sun rose” consists of sixteen lines, featuring her signature slant rimes and a generous sprinkling of dashes. The poem is written as one piece without divisions by stanzas but sections itself topically into four movements.

    The first two movements describe how the sun came up on the particular morning of the speaker’s choosing, while in the second two movements, the speaker is simply dramatizing her suggestion for why she cannot explain how the sun set.

    I’ll tell you how the Sun rose

    I’ll tell you how the Sun rose –
    A Ribbon at a time –
    The Steeples swam in Amethyst –
    The news, like Squirrels, ran –
    The Hills untied their Bonnets –
    The Bobolinks – begun –
    Then I said softly to myself –
    “That must have been the Sun”!
    But how he set – I know not –
    There seemed a purple stile
    That little Yellow boys and girls
    Were climbing all the while –
    Till when they reached the other side,
    A Dominie in Gray –
    Put gently up the evening Bars –
    And led the flock away –

    Commentary on “I’ll tell you how the Sun rose”

    Emily Dickinson’s “I’ll tell you how the Sun rose” is dramatizing what the speaker knows about the sunrise but then hazards only a dramatic guess about sunset.  Interestingly, she is suggesting that she can observe the sunrise but not the sunset.

    First Movement:   Explaining the Unexplainable 

    I’ll tell you how the Sun rose –
    A Ribbon at a time –
    The Steeples swam in Amethyst –
    The news, like Squirrels, ran –

    The speaker announces that she will be explaining to her listeners, “how the Sun rose.”  She then through the employment of metaphor likens the sun’s rays to ribbons that are released a single ribbon at a time.  The colorful sun ribbons of rays are leisurely released, and they hover the ocean to a place where the steeples of churches appear to “sw[i]m in Amethyst.” 

    The sun’s fire then looms upon the blackness, immediately reverting to blue as it takes on a brightness, fully glowing because of the light that the sun has released.   The luminescence of the sun spreads with great haste; thus the speaker compares its speed to the scampering of squirrels, as she calls the event “news.”

    Second Movement:  The Ordinary Made Extraordinary

    The Hills untied their Bonnets –
    The Bobolinks – begun –
    Then I said softly to myself –
    “That must have been the Sun”!

    The speaker now asserts that the hills removed their “Bonnets,” and the birds knowns as “Bobolinks” commenced their singing.  The metaphoric personification of hills with bonnets suggests that all of nature is coming alive again, and the speaker knows this because she sees many colors that may be detected in the faraway hills.  Birds have awakened, and they have begun their many layered chirping.

    The speaker’s reaction is such that it would make it seem she is seeing this event for the first time.  She muses and quotes herself breathlessly, for example, as she exclaims,”‘That must have been the Sun’!”  The speaker is creating her little drama using ordinary items from her environment which she makes extraordinary in her reporting.

    Third Movement:  A Forceful Drama

    But how he set – I know not –
    There seemed a purple stile
    That little Yellow boys and girls
    Were climbing all the while –

    The speaker then envisions her situation to be nearer to sunrise than to sunset.  This idea, of course, is merely fictional, but it offers her the ability to create her drama of how the sun rises.  She knows she cannot explain scientifically such an event, but she can forcefully and dramatically imagine it.

    So in order to explain sunset, she imagines she can see a set of steps that appear purple in color from a distance.  Little Chinese children are climbing on those steps.   Those children are likely just going home from a day of school or tending sheep.

    Fourth Movement:  The Cover of Darkness

    Till when they reached the other side,
    A Dominie in Gray –
    Put gently up the evening Bars –
    And led the flock away –

    The children have climbed to the other side of the stile, an event that signals the sun’s lowest point just as it then vanishes from sight.  A shepherd or perhaps even a churchman secures the gate then leads the flock of sheep or perhaps children away from that area.

    Because darkness is now hovering thick, the speaker cannot offer any images for what may be happening next.  The speaker’s lack of knowledge about sunset is reflected in her word choices which are much less certain than her drama about how the sun rises.  By suggesting that she can tell you all about how the sun rose but not so much about how it set implies the speaker prefers sunrise to sunset.

    The Symbolism of Sunrise

    In Emily Dickinson’s “I’ll tell you how the Sun rose,” sunrise becomes symbolic of life-enhancing positivity: the beginning of the day offers opportunities for living and creating.  Sunset, on the other hand, simply offers the opportunity for sleep.

    The curious active mind is always hankering for more positive opportunities for acting out its desires, for securing a stage for creativity, and for living its need for motion.  That stage is daylight, after the sun rises and throws its life-giving rays upon land and its inhabitants.  

  • Emily Dickinson’s “There’s a certain Slant of light”

    Image: Emily Dickinson - Amherst College - Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 - likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet
    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet

    Emily Dickinson’s “There’s a certain Slant of light”

    Dickinson closely observed and investigated her surroundings; she also keenly examined her own feelings then dramatized those feelings in poems.  In “There’s a certain Slant of light,” her speaker is infusing melancholy into her perception of light streaming through a window on a winter afternoon.

    Introduction with Text of “There’s a certain Slant of light”

    Emily Dickinson developed the habit of closely observing as she investigated her surroundings.  The poet then keenly examined and mused upon her own feelings, finally dramatizing those feelings in poems.

    The poet created this speaker in “There’s a certain Slant of light” to reveal a mood of slight melancholy as she muses on a shaft of light streaming in through her window on a winter afternoon.  

    That streaming light through the window seems to tip and tilt, that is, “slant,” in a way that causes the speaker to undergo that sense of melancholy, which is no ordinary gloom but brings with it a spiritual aspect. 

    The speaker creates a little drama based on her intense feeling of spiritual intuition which has been motivated by a simple “Slant of light” streaming in through the window on a cold, winter afternoon.

    There’s a certain Slant of light

    There’s a certain Slant of light,
    Winter Afternoons –
    That oppresses, like the Heft
    Of Cathedral Tunes –

    Heavenly Hurt, it gives us –
    We can find no scar,
    But internal difference,
    Where the Meanings, are –

    None may teach it – Any –
    ‘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, ’tis like the Distance
    On the look of Death –

    Reading of “There’s a certain Slant of light” 

    Commentary on “There’s a certain Slant of light”

    A simple viewing of a shaft of light streaming into the room on a winter day engenders in this speaker a melancholy prompting this little drama.  The spiritual experience thus is rendered in paradox—the ultimate literary device for communicating the ineffable.

    First Stanza:  The Oppression of Tilting Light

    There’s a certain Slant of light,
    Winter Afternoons –
    That oppresses, like the Heft
    Of Cathedral Tunes –

    The speaker begins the drama by asserting that on certain winter afternoons the light shining in through her window comes in at a “certain Slant” and that tilting light “oppresses” her in the way the heavy tones of sacred chants might do. Although light is weightless, to the speaker in this particular mood, it seems heavy enough to oppress her into melancholy.

    A paradox results from the speaker finding the “light” to be as heavy as church music.  Music experienced in church is meant to uplift, not weigh one down.  If something that is meant to uplift does the opposite, then one has to explore the reasons for such oppression.  Why would music that ordinarily produces a spiritual upliftment become an instrument of oppression—that is, something that is heavy?

    Second Stanza:  The Human Craving for Meaning

    Heavenly Hurt, it gives us –
    We can find no scar,
    But internal difference,
    Where the Meanings, are –

    The deeply inspiring sound of “Cathedral Tunes” brings the speaker to a place of “Heavenly Hurt.”  Again, she paradoxically describes her experience:  Heaven is a spiritual place where there is no hurt, no pain, no distress, no oppression—only bliss. 

    The speaker confirms as much as she avers that this “hurt” never results in a “scar.”  And it also leaves no physical mark such as scar because this melancholy is inside of the speaker; it is her soul that has engaged with this music, this light, that has caused this spiritual experience.

    The speaker employs the term, “Meaning”—all human beings on all levels of awareness crave meaning in their lives, and the speaker has become aware of the meaning of an inner life that is more important than the corporeal.  True meaning come from the soul not from the body that changes and dies, nor from the mind that knows nothing but change.

    Third Stanza:  Soul Meaning

    None may teach it – Any –
    ‘Tis the Seal Despair –
    An imperial affliction
    Sent us of the air –

    The speaker then affirms that one cannot be taught this kind of soul meaning. The mystical state of the desire for meaning comes on one unbidden, as casually as taking a breath. “Despair” of the material world often leads one to ask the question, is this all there is to life?

    But the individual becomes a seeker after she begins to entertain such questions.  Divine cravings may be prompted by any outward experience such as light tilting in through a window, but those cravings for spiritual reality can be satisfied only through soul-union, which is Divine Awareness.  The melancholy of spiritual desire is a first step to that Ultimate Awareness.

    Fourth Stanza:  The Nature of Reality

    When it comes, the Landscape listens –
    Shadows – hold their breath –
    When it goes, ’tis like the Distance
    On the look of Death – 

    After the strong spiritual desire for meaning, that is, comprehending the nature of Reality approaches the sensibility of the individual, that individual wished to cease the flux of all phenomena in order to listen—”be still and know that I am God” (KJV, Psalm 46:10).

    This speaker creates her drama by asserting that “Shadows  – hold their breath.”  Shadows holding their breath suggests a depth of quietness that is nearly unfathomable.  A miraculous awareness engulfs the speaker.

    The speaker has discovered that this “heavenly hurt,” this spiritual melancholy, transforms itself into the light of understanding.  Death loses its grip and meaning after such a level of awareness is achieved, no longer grasping the heart and mind of the individual.  

    After death has become merely a distant force, the spiritual aspirant sees more clearly all other forces that operate in her sphere.  The speaker has thus reached that inner Goal.  Death is beaten and given its place to Awareness. 

    The Science and Symbolism of Light

    That a simple “Slant of light” should engender a deep mystic state of awareness in this speaker is quite apt.  Regarding the nature of light, in his spiritual classic, Autobiography of a Yogi [1], Paramahansa Yogananda has explained that the material universe is composed of light.  Many modern discoveries have revealed to humanity that the cosmos is composed of various expressions of one power—light—guided by Divine Intelligence.

    Paramahansa Yogananda has also explained that only differing rates of vibration account for the differing forms that exist throughout the cosmos:

    Modern science has shown that everything in the universe is composed of energy (light), and that the apparent differentiation between solids, liquids, gases, sound, and light is merely a difference in their vibratory rates.

    Also in his autobiography, Paramahansa Yogananda has explained in detail the nature of light, comparing it to other “waves”:

    Among the trillion mysteries of the cosmos, the most phenomenal is light. Unlike sound waves, whose transmission requires air or other material media, light waves pass freely through the vacuum of interstellar space. Even the hypothetical ether, held as the interplanetary medium of light in the undulatory theory, may be discarded on the Einsteinian grounds that the geometrical properties of space render unnecessary a theory of ether. Under either hypothesis, light remains the most subtle, the freest from material dependence, of any natural manifestation.

    The individual who has achieved the realization that “the essence of creation is light” is thus capable of operating the law of miracles.  The term miracle simply applies to any phenomenon whose operation science [2] has yet to discover.  

    What the soul knows through intuition will always be running miles and years ahead of what physical science [3] knows because physical science can explore and examine only the created cosmos not the Creator of that cosmos.  The soul, however, being a spark of the Creator, knows all that the Creator knows—either in fact or in potential.

    Emily Dickinson’s employment of light in this poem thus results from her deep intuitive awareness that light is the building substance of the cosmos.  Therefore, “light” becomes a symbol for that intuition that would continue to guide the poet as she continued to create her  mystical, metaphysical, metaphorical “garden” of poetry.

    Sources

    [1]  Paramahansa Yogananda.  Autobiography of a Yogi.  Self-Realization Fellowship.  Accessed June 3, 2026.
    [2]  Ard Louis.  “Miracles and Science: The Long Shadow of David Hume.”  The BioLogos Foundation.  March 12, 2018.
    [3]  Lisa Zyga.  “Quantum Mysticism: Gone but Not Forgotten.” Phys.org.  June 8, 2009.

  • Arna Bontemps’ “God Give to Men”

    Arna Bontemps - Poetry Foundation - https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/arna-bontemps 
    Image: Arna Bontemps – Poetry Foundation 

    Arna Bontemps’ “God Give to Men”

    Arna Bontemps’ speaker makes a statement about three classifications of humankind, employing subtle but bitter irony to further his point of view.

    Introduction with Text of “God Give to Men”

    Arna Bontemps’ “God Give to Men” disguises its bitter irony in a prayer, in which the speaker seems to be asking God for certain gifts for each of three classifications of human beings: “the yellow man,” “blue-eyed men,” and “black man.” 

    The speaker’s subtle but bitter irony reveals his contempt as he actually denigrates two of classifications.  The speaker does not reveal explicitly to which classification he belongs.  Thus, readers are given some latitude to interpret the significance of each gift the speaker wishes to bestow on each class of men.

    An interesting thought experiment might include reading the poem from three different perspectives.  That is, if the speaker is a “yellow man,” what do his gifts to that class mean?   Also, if he is one of the “blue-eyed men,” how does that change the significance of each gift?   And if he is a member of the “black  man” classification, how might that impact his choices?

    The Weakness of Stereotyping 

    It should be noted that the speaker engages heavily in stereotyping for all three classifications.   Such a weakness could encourage the thought that this speaker does not belong to any of the classifications to which he is referring; for example, perhaps he is a red man or a brown man of Hispanic or Middle Eastern heritage, or perhaps he is an Indian from India.

    By stereotyping each classification of man and men, the speaker offers nothing of substance regarding each, but the question does arise regarding the possible animus he holds for certain of the classifications.

    Singular vs Plural

    Interestingly, the speaker refers to the first classification as “the yellow man,” while designating the second group as “blue-eyed men.” Then he returns to the singular for the third group. That distinction from singular for the “yellow man” to plural for the “blue-eyed men” and then back to singular for the “black man” offers an issue for interpretation. 

    Might pluralizing the “blue-eyed” indicate the speaker’s level of familiarity with that group?  Perhaps he simply finds the plural more rhythmic in its employment of pronouns.  Or perhaps, it a simple rookie mistake. Such distinctions remain for each reader to decide.

    God Give to Men

    God give the yellow man
    an easy breeze at blossom time.
    Grant his eager, slanting eyes to cover
    every land and dream
    of afterwhile. 

    Give blue-eyed men their swivel chairs
    to whirl in tall buildings.
    Allow them many ships at sea,
    and on land, soldiers
    and policemen.

    For black man, God,
    no need to bother more
    but only fill afresh his meed
    of laughter,
    his cup of tears.

    God suffer little men
    the taste of soul’s desire.

    Commentary on Arna Bontemps “God Give to Men”

    In this poem, the speaker puts on display stereotypes that he holds regarding three classifications of humankind. His evaluation of each classification becomes apparent through the gifts that he asks the Creator to bestow on each.

    First Stanza:  The Yellow Man

    God give the yellow man
    an easy breeze at blossom time.
    Grant his eager, slanting eyes to cover
    every land and dream
    of afterwhile. 

    In the first stanza, the speaker asks God to grant “the yellow man” gentle winds as he engages his “slanting eyes” observing the beauty of “blossom time.”  He then asks that this yellow man be afforded the prescience to peer into the “afterwhile.”

    The two gifts that the speaker is asking from God for the “yellow man” reveal two stereotypes that Westerners entertain regarding their Eastern brothers and sisters.  The first gift of “an easy breeze at blossom time” shows that the speaker has been influenced by Japanese and Chinese fine paintings that depict delicate “blossoms.” 

    In his second gift to the “yellow man,” the speaker is engaging the stereotype that assumes all Asians adhere to the tenets of reincarnation and karma.  He wishes God to grant this Eastern man the ability to see with his “slanting eyes” “every land and dream / of afterwhile.” 

    The magnanimity of both these gifts, however, is diminished by the mere fact that both gifts are based on stereotypes, not the individual heart-felt desire that each human being be given appropriate gifts from God.  

    But the insincerity of these stereotypical gifts becomes more than merely trivial.  The speaker is denigrating the yellow man for engaging in the mere frivolity of light sense pleasure; that “easy breeze at blossom time” thus competes with more important life-sustaining vital gifts that the speaker could have assigned the yellow man.  

    Note also that a poet writing today would be pilloried for using an expression such a “slanting eyes” to refer to an Asian individual—that is, unless that poet is of the ilk of LeRoi Jones, aka Amiri Baraka or Arna Bontemps.

    Second Stanza:   The Blue-Eyed Men

    Give blue-eyed men their swivel chairs
    to whirl in tall buildings.
    Allow them many ships at sea,
    and on land, soldiers
    and policemen.

    For the “blue-eyed men,” the speaker asks that God give them skyscrapers with office equipment, as well as mighty navies and armies with “soldiers”  as well as “policemen.”   Again, as with the yellow man,  the speaker employs a mere stereotype to designate which two gifts he thinks God should grant.  The first gift that God should grant the blue eyes is the comfortable chairs in office buildings that are tall. 

    The speaker is presenting the stereotype that blue-eyed men are materialists who work in offices with “swivel chairs” in “tall buildings.”  The second gift of vast military force and police officers again stereotypes the “blue-eyed men” as interested only in power and force. 

    By honing in on these two particular gifts instrumental in the use of force, the speaker reduces those men with blue eyes to power hungry monstrosities.  As this classification is much less of a protected class in the 21st century, the poet writing today could get away with much more invective stereotyping even than this one.  

    Third Stanza:   The Black Man

    For black man, God,
    no need to bother more
    but only fill afresh his meed
    of laughter,
    his cup of tears.

    The speaker then asks God’s gift to the “black man” be nothing special—just let him laugh plenty and cry as needed.  This classification dictates that it suffer the other classes to precede it, as this classification remains humble.    But the humility remains a mere façade as the bitter irony of the speaker’s requests has demonstrated his scant knowledge of all three classifications. 

    A stereotype can describe only a surface level of qualities, for example, the notion that black people all have rhythm and love watermelon and fried chicken becomes ludicrous after observation of real individuals forming this classification.   Yet, less obnoxious stereotypes are just as insidious, as they stand in for individual knowledge and mask ultimate reality.

    Fourth Stanza:   Suffering Their Desires

    God suffer little men
    the taste of soul’s desire.

    The fourth stanza consists of only two lines that ask a generalized gift from God.   The speaker wishes that each man of each classification “suffer” “the taste of soul’s desire.”  Essentially, the speaker is asking God make sure each of these “little men” are afflicted with whatever punishment they deserve for entertaining the desires that they hold.  

    The speaker has assigned each classification of human beings a “soul’s desire,” but that desire has been determined by a very biased speaker, who holds bitter contempt for his other-racial fellows.

    Asking God to grant each group of mankind their wishes, the speaker assumes that the yellow man wants to experience pretty flowers and contemplate the after life and that the blue-eyed men wish to accrue wealth and power.

    However, black man needs nothing at all; he remains so humble that all he wants is just to laugh and cry as he sees fit.  Thus the speaker is also implying that heretofore the black man has been denied his ability to laugh and cry according to his dictates.  But now through his humble prayer, the speaker hopes that God will give these well-deserved gifts, and then all will be right with the world.

    Reaping Bitter Fruit

    Readers likely wonder what may be the significance of race for the black poet Arno Bontemps.  The following poem by Bontemps is one example that demonstrates the poet’s attitude toward race:

    A Black Man Talks of Reaping

    I have sown beside all waters in my day.
    I planted deep, within my heart the fear
    That wind or fowl would take the grain away.
    I planted safe against this stark, lean year.
    I scattered seed enough to plant the land
    In rows from Canada to Mexico
    But for my reaping only what the hand
    Can hold at once is all that I can show.
    Yet what I sowed and what the orchard yields
    My brother’s sons are gathering stalk and root,
    Small wonder then my children glean in fields
    They have not sown, and feed on bitter fruit.

    The speaker in the Bontemps “The Black Man Speaks of Reaping” portrays black labor as vast, careful, but undercompensated; the speaker’s harvest is stolen by others, leaving descendants to glean only bitter, inherited injustice.  

    While Bontemps did not spout bitter personal hatred toward his fellows of other races—as did LeRoi Jones, aka Amiri Baraka—Bontemps did often decry the limitations he perceived that were placed on the black race.  He then often expressed his bitterness with irony and satire.  

    In “God Give to Men,” Bontemps has crafted a speaker, who is demonstrating a bitter attitude directed toward the races of men not his own, and although the piece engages subtle irony, it loses its heft because of the focus on stereotypes.

    Painting of Arna Bontemps  - Betsy Graves Reyneau, 1888 - 1964 https://www.si.edu/object/npg_NPG.67.79
    Image: Painting of Arna Bontemps  – Betsy Graves Reyneau, 1888 – 1964

  • Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul’s distinct connection”

    Image: Emily Dickinson - Amherst College - Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 - likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet
    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet

    Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul’s distinct connection”

    The speaker in Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul’s distinct connection” reveals that immortality is suddenly disclosed through shock and danger experiences.

    Introduction and Text of “The Soul’s distinct connection”

    The speaker presents “The Soul’s distinct connection” as a compressed American-Innovative lyric exploring spiritual perception. Its short lines and slant rimes create a sudden movement from idea to visionary image. The speaker suggests immortality is not gradual knowledge but a flash of direct awareness.

    The speaker frames immortality as something revealed through sudden crisis rather than gradual understanding. The structure anticipates a metaphysical shock that disrupts ordinary perception.

    The Soul’s distinct connection”

    The Soul’s distinct connection
    With immortality
    Is best disclosed by Danger
    Or quick Calamity –

    As Lightning on a Landscape
    Exhibits Sheets of Place –
    Not yet suspected – but for Flash –
    And Click – and Suddenness.

    Commentary on “The Soul’s distinct connection”

    The speaker frames immortality as something revealed through sudden crisis rather than gradual understanding. The structure anticipates a metaphysical shock that disrupts ordinary perception.  Her vision aligns with Paramahansa Yogananda’s teaching that immortality is perceived through sudden inner awakening beyond ordinary awareness.

    First Stanza: The Soul and Immortality

    The Soul’s distinct connection
    With immortality
    Is best disclosed by Danger
    Or quick Calamity –

    In the first stanza, the speaker defines a direct relationship between the soul and immortality, presenting the connection as inherent rather than acquired, embedded within the very structure of consciousness itself. This connection is not continuously visible in ordinary perception, but it becomes evident when danger or sudden calamity interrupts the expected flow of life and thought. 

    Paramahansa Yogananda explains that the soul perceives immortality most clearly when the mind is startled into higher awareness beyond sensory routine, allowing intuitive consciousness to rise above temporal limitation enabling perception of immortality as immediate experience rather than abstract belief grounded in time-bound reasoning.

    In the phrase “Danger / Or quick Calamity,” the speaker emphasizes the disruptive force required to awaken spiritual perception, suggesting that only extreme interruption can break habitual mental patterns. 

    On my literary website Linda’s Literary Home, I have discussed the fact that Dickinson often uses shock imagery to reveal hidden spiritual states, where disruption becomes a gateway to deeper awareness of the soul. 

    Here the speaker suggests that spiritual awareness emerges when normal continuity is broken, forcing consciousness into a heightened state of perception that resembles awakening from illusion aligning consciousness with a sudden intuitive shift beyond habitual cognition.

    Second Stanza: Soul Suddenness

    As Lightning on a Landscape
    Exhibits Sheets of Place –
    Not yet suspected – but for Flash –
    And Click – and Suddenness.

    In the second stanza, the speaker uses lightning as the central image to describe how spiritual perception suddenly reveals the hidden structure of reality, revealing perception as a sudden cognitive rupture rather than a gradual interpretive process unfolding in time. 

    This revelation is not gradual but instantaneous, exposing “Sheets of Place” across the landscape of experience implying hidden dimensionality within ordinary perception itself. 

    Paramahansa Yogananda explains that divine insight often arrives like a flash of lightning, dissolving mental obscurity and awakening superconscious awareness where consciousness transcends linear reasoning and enters intuitive cognition.

    The speaker suggests that reality is composed of layers that are normally invisible, only becoming apparent when perception is abruptly illuminated suggesting that ordinary awareness conceals deeper structures until disrupted by sudden insight. 

    On my literary website Linda’s Literary Home, I have noted that Dickinson compresses vast metaphysical ideas into brief, electric imagery that mimics sudden spiritual awakening where brevity intensifies metaphysical meaning through concentrated symbolic expression that emphasizes non-linear cognition characteristic of mystical experience. 

    This structure mirrors mystical experience, where understanding arrives all at once rather than through linear reasoning reinforcing the immediacy of perception as a sudden cognitive awakening beyond temporal sequence, dissolving fragmentation into unified awareness that transcends sensory division aligning sensory faculties into a single integrated perception of truth.

    The imagery of flash and click emphasizes immediacy, suggesting a sudden recognition of truth that cannot be delayed or extended over time emphasizing that spiritual understanding arrives as a decisive moment rather than gradual accumulation. 

    Paramahansa Yogananda explains that when consciousness rises above sensory limitation, truth is perceived as a single unified moment of clarity marking transformation from illusion to awakened recognition within consciousness. 

    The speaker frames this experience as both visual and auditory, merging perception into one unified spiritual event where poetic compression mirrors expanded metaphysical insight through condensed language.

  • Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul that hath a Guest”

    Image: Emily Dickinson - Amherst College - Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 - likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet
    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet

    Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul that hath a Guest”

    Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul that hath a Guest” dramatizes the soul’s complete fulfillment after welcoming the Divine Presence within consciousness.

    Introduction and Text of “The Soul that hath a Guest”

    Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul that hath a Guest” features a speaker contemplating the disposition of a soul that has become inwardly united with the Divine Reality. The compressed little lyric contains only two quatrain stanzas, yet the speaker manages to suggest an entire metaphysical philosophy regarding the soul’s preference for spiritual companionship over worldly diversion.

    The poem advances through two balanced, harmonious movements. The first quatrain establishes the soul’s contentment in remaining inwardly absorbed because of the “Diviner Crowd” dwelling within. The second quatrain stanza reveals that spiritual courtesy itself forbids abandoning one’s inward sanctuary while entertaining “The Emperor of Men.”

    This Dickinsonian drama recalls the teachings of the “Father of Yoga in the West” Paramahansa Yogananda, who often taught that communion with the Divine becomes so absorbing that worldly restlessness naturally diminishes. Dickinson’s speaker reveals the same intuition regarding the soul’s preference for inner bliss over outward entertainment.

    The Soul that hath a Guest

    The Soul that hath a Guest 

    Doth seldom go abroad –
    Diviner Crowd at Home –
    Obliterate the need –

    And Courtesy forbid
    A Host’s departure when
    Upon Himself be visiting
    The Emperor of Men –

    Commentary on “The Soul that hath a Guest”

    Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul that hath a Guest” portrays the soul’s inward fulfillment after receiving the companionship of the Divine Belovèd.

    First Stanza: God and Solitude

    The Soul that hath a Guest
    Doth seldom go abroad –
    Diviner Crowd at Home –
    Obliterate the need –

    The speaker begins with the remarkable assertion that the soul possessing “a Guest” no longer feels compelled to “go abroad.” The term “abroad” suggests worldly involvement, social distraction, and outward seeking among transient pleasures that can never permanently satisfy the human heart. The soul’s newfound inward richness renders external wandering increasingly unnecessary.

    The identity of the “Guest” gradually emerges through implication rather than direct declaration. Dickinson’s speakers often employ riddling language that hints rather than explains.

    And here the speaker permits the reader to infer that the “Guest” is none other than God or Divine Consciousness Itself. The presence of the “Diviner Crowd at Home” confirms that the soul has become inhabited by spiritual reality greater than ordinary earthly companionship.

    The phrase “Diviner Crowd” possesses a curious and mystical resonance because the speaker refers to a singular “Guest” but then transforms that singularity into a “Crowd.” Such language suggests the infinite qualities of Spirit that accompany divine communion: peace, joy, wisdom, harmony, and intuitive understanding. One divine Presence contains more richness than the multitude of worldly associations.

    The speaker then explains that the “Diviner Crowd” can “Obliterate the need.” The verb “obliterate” demonstrates the completeness of spiritual fulfillment because the soul no longer merely suppresses worldly cravings; instead, those cravings dissolve altogether in the greater attraction of divine companionship.

    The speaker understands that spiritual realization does not operate through deprivation but through replacement of lesser satisfactions with greater bliss.  Paramahansa Yogananda frequently emphasized that the soul’s true happiness arises from inward communion with God rather than dependence upon external entertainments. 

    Paramahansa Yogananda teaches, “When you know God as peace within, you will realize Him as peace existing in the universal harmony of all things without.” Dickinson’s speaker reveals that same calm inward certainty resulting from spiritual companionship.

    The speaker’s little drama also focuses on the same theme that Dickinson explores often because of her fascination with the soul’s hidden life.   Her speakers repeatedly suggest that external society pales beside the soul’s own immense inward kingdom. This speaker likewise demonstrates that once the soul discovers the Divine Reality, ordinary worldly movement loses much of its fascination.

    Second Stanza:  God and Hospitality

    And Courtesy forbid
    A Host’s departure when
    Upon Himself be visiting
    The Emperor of Men –

    The second stanza deepens the speaker’s conceit by employing the metaphor of hospitality. The soul now becomes a “Host,” while the divine Presence remains the honored “Guest.” Because the soul is entertaining such exalted company, ordinary “Courtesy” itself forbids departure from the inward sanctuary.

    The speaker’s use of “Courtesy” lends a delicate social elegance to the spiritual circumstance. Even in worldly etiquette, a gracious host would never abandon an honored visitor. Thus, the soul absorbed in divine awareness naturally remains inwardly attentive because no earthly obligation could surpass the importance of entertaining “The Emperor of Men.”

    The final phrase majestically identifies the Guest’s true stature. The “Emperor of Men” clearly symbolizes God as sovereign over all humanity and creation itself. The speaker therefore implies that once divine consciousness enters the soul’s awareness, all lesser attractions become secondary beside the majesty of that Presence.

    Dickinson’s speaker carefully avoids theological dogma while still conveying unmistakable spiritual intimacy. The poem remains experiential rather than doctrinal because the speaker focuses not upon religious systems but upon the soul’s transformed condition after inwardly realizing divine companionship. Such subtlety allows the poem to retain both mystical suggestiveness and artistic restraint.

    Paramahansa Yogananda similarly taught that the soul discovers its deepest fulfillment through interior communion with God. Paramahansa Yogananda explains, “The more you appreciate the divine image in everyone, the more you are alive with God’s consciousness.” 

    Dickinson’s speaker reveals a consciousness already so absorbed in the divine realm that outward movement appears unnecessary in comparison to the bliss of inward companionship.

    The speaker’s reverent inwardness also recalls Paramahansa Yogananda’s frequent emphasis on stillness and soul awareness. Divine realization requires inward receptivity, not ceaseless outward motion. Dickinson’s speaker therefore dramatizes the soul quietly remaining at home because the greatest conceivable Guest already dwells within.

  • Emily Dickinson’s “Whether my bark went down at sea”

    Image: Emily Dickinson - Amherst College - Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 - likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet
    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet

    Emily Dickinson’s “Whether my bark went down at sea”

    Emily Dickinson’s “Whether my bark went down at sea” reveals the speaker’s serene contemplation of the soul’s destination after it departs the physical encasement.  She is envisioning a mystery so absolute that no earthly eye can resolve it—only a deeper, inward faculty of perception.

    Introduction and Text of “Whether my bark went down at sea”

    Emily Dickinson’s “Whether my bark went down at sea” is an American-Innovative lyric composed of two quatrains. Each stanza alternates between iambic tetrameter and iambic trimeter, held together by Dickinson’s characteristic slant or near rime, with the rime scheme playing out roughly ABCB in each stanza.

    The poem thematically divides itself into two equal dramatic movements: the first stanza catalogues the uncertainties of the soul’s departure, while the second stanza redirects attention from all those unresolvable questions toward the one vital act of seeking. 

    The speaker of the poem is dramatizing the human condition of unknowing;  that is condition in which no amount of rational inquiry can ascertain where the soul has gone or how it arrived there.

    Such beloved features and qualities of life, such as the sea, the gale, enchanted isles, and mystic moorings, all function in this poem as richly suggestive metaphors for the soul’s voyage beyond the physical plane. On a second note, the speaker also quietly establishes that the proper response to this mystery is not despair but active, searching attention—the outward sweep of the eye across the Bay.

    On the literal level, the poet is creating a speaker who surveys the unknown fate of a vessel whether it sank, was storm-tossed, or sailed to some enchanted destination. The vessel (“bark”) serves as a figure for the soul in transit, as it does in so many classical and mystical traditions of poetry and spiritual teaching.

    Because the destination of the bark remains radically uncertain, the speaker catalogues each possible fate in a series of parallel “whether” clauses, a rhetorical structure that enacts the very uncertainty it names. The poem’s form thus performs its meaning: the anaphoric “whether” accumulates unanswered questions that resist resolution on the terrestrial level.

    Posing as a brief riddle in the tradition of the sea-voyage lyric, Dickinson’s little drama serves as a musing on the inscrutability of the soul’s journey after death. By leaving every question open and redirecting the gaze outward to the “Bay,” the speaker suggests that active, loving attention is the only honest posture before the great mystery.

    Whether my bark went down at sea

    Whether my bark went down at sea –
    Whether she met with gales –
    Whether to isles enchanted
    She bent her docile sails –

    By what mystic mooring
    She is held today –
    This is the errand of the eye
    Out upon the Bay.

    Commentary on “Whether my bark went down at sea”

    Emily Dickinson’s “Whether my bark went down at sea” reveals an attitude of profound equanimity before the mystery of the soul’s passage—an attitude resonant with the mystical traditions the speaker drew upon in her long, contemplative solitude.

    The poem is a contemplative musing on the unknowable fate of a beloved soul, where the speaker catalogues every possible destination and then quietly turns the whole inquiry outward into an act of searching, reverent attention.

    First Stanza: Whether This or That

    Whether my bark went down at sea –
    Whether she met with gales –
    Whether to isles enchanted
    She bent her docile sails –

    In the first stanza, the speaker begins by introducing an unnamed vessel—”my bark”—whose fate remains entirely unresolved, suspended in a sequence of parallel questions that pile one upon another without resolution. 

    The use of the possessive “my” is not incidental: the bark belongs intimately to the speaker, suggesting that this is no impersonal vessel but rather a cherished soul whose journey the speaker has watched and cannot stop watching.

    The speaker then unfolds three possible fates: that the bark went down at sea, that it met with gales, or that it sailed serenely to “isles enchanted.”  Thus the poem’s formal symmetry makes no distinction among them, granting each the same weight. 

    That the bark’s sails are described as “docile” is one of the stanza’s subtlest and most moving details: the word suggests a soul that submitted willingly to whatever course the greater wind decreed, neither resisting nor lamenting its direction.

    The “isles enchanted” carry particular resonance within Dickinson’s imaginative world, where the otherworldly realm frequently appears as a kind of luminous, removed geography accessible only to the mystically attuned. 

    As noted in the “Life Sketch of Emily Dickinson” at my lit home, Linda’s Literary Home, the poet “lived a solitary life that in many ways paralleled that of a religious monastic,” and her deep contemplative practice gave her an unusually direct intuition about such otherworldly destinations—that they are neither fable nor mere metaphor but a genuine, if unseen, plane of existence.

    Second Stanza: Then Such and Such

    By what mystic mooring
    She is held today –
    This is the errand of the eye
    Out upon the Bay.

    In the second stanza, the speaker shifts her rhetorical inquiry from sequential questioning to a single, overarching wonder, essentially asking by what invisible anchor is the bark presently held? 

    The word “mystic” performs a great deal of work here, quietly confirming that whatever mooring detains the bark, it belongs to no earthly harbor and cannot be mapped by any nautical chart. The speaker does not mourn this unknowability; she names it with the calm precision of a mystic who has grown comfortable dwelling at the edge of the visible.

    The phrase “held today” is quietly startling: the bark, though departed from every familiar shore, is not lost or destroyed but positively held—secured, in some present and ongoing way, by a “mooring,” which the physical eye cannot locate. 

    This assertion is the poem’s most consoling proposition, and it echoes the teaching of Paramahansa Yogananda, who explains in “Understanding Death and Loss” that the soul, far from being destroyed at death, exists in continuing reality:   “We exist, and that existence is eternal.  The wave comes to the shore, and then goes back to the sea; it is not lost.” 

    Paramahansa Yogananda often employed the wave/ocean metaphor to explain the relationship of the individual soul to God.  Similarly in Dickinson’s poem, just as the wave does not cease to be because it is a part of the ocean, the bark that “went down at sea” has not ceased to be; it has simply passed beyond the range of the physical eye into a different mode of existence.

    The final couplet—”This is the errand of the eye / Out upon the Bay”—resolves the poem’s formal tension with a gesture that is simultaneously humble and active. All the unanswered questions of the first stanza, all the accumulated uncertainty, converge into one clean, clarifying act: the eye goes out upon the Bay. 

    The eye does not cease its searching; it does not abandon the bark to oblivion; it performs its one possible service—the loving, attentive gaze directed toward the water where the vessel last was seen. In this way, the speaker models what grief and love, at their most dignified, actually do: they watch, and they wait, and they continue to look.

    The poem is, finally, one of Dickinson’s most compact and formally nearly perfect riddles. The bark may have been destroyed, storm-damaged, or lured to enchanted shores; the speaker cannot determine which, and the poem refuses to pretend otherwise. 

    What the speaker can do—what the poem performs for the reader as well—is keep the eye upon the horizon, sustaining attention toward a mystery that the physical senses cannot penetrate but that the soul, as Dickinson’s long monastic practice had taught her, already knows from the inside.