Certain Slants of Light

After a night and a day of much-needed rain, the sun came out this evening. The sky was golden beyond Jack's Mountain.


The sunset below the clouds reminded me of Emily Dickinson' s poem, "A Certain Slant of Light."

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.

The above view is Smith Mountain, northeast of my house. The shaft of light from the setting sun made part of the mountain almost glow.

The eastern sky behind my pin oak looked like a sunrise. Looks can be deceiving.

Internal difference—where the meanings are.

~