The daisy follows soft the sun

  

The daisy follows soft the sun,
And when his golden walk is done,
Sits shyly at his feet.
He, waking, finds the flower near.
"Wherefore, marauder, art thou here?"
"Because, sir, love is sweet!"

We are the flower, Thou the sun!
Forgive us, if as days decline,
We nearer steal to Thee, —
Enamoured of the parting west,
The peace, the flight, the amethyst,

Night's possibility

                   __Emily Dickinson


I read this just today on one of my favorite internet sites, Writers' Almanac, and had to share.  Once again, Emily does not disappoint us with flowery words or useless trivia.  It is right to the point:  Night's Possibilities.