Thursday, December 30, 2010

Christmas, Blue Peninsula

Early morning, up from a deep langorous sleep
Things have shifted, a final advent window
unlatched to solve a mystery,
reveal a precious gift
that with it brings an unexpected end to wanderings
and in a single enveloping instant
an abiding sense of home.
I am in awe. I never expected to see
beyond the surface glisten
and now am drawn deep into the warm
miraculous depths, an end to one journey,
the start, perhaps, of another.

Andrew Wyeth, Master Bedroom, watercolor, c. 1965 (detail)
Joseph Cornell, Toward the "Blue Peninsula":
For Emily Dickinson
, box construction, c. 1952


It might be lonelier
Without the Loneliness -
I'm so accustomed to my Fate -
Perhaps the Other - Peace -

Would interrupt the Dark -
And crowd the little Room -
Too scant - by Cubits - to contain
The Sacrament - of Him -

I am not used to Hope -
It might intrude upon -
Its sweet parade - blaspheme the place -
Ordained to Suffering -

It might be easier
To fail - with Land in Sight -
Than gain - My Blue Peninsula -
To perish - of Delight -

Emily Dickinson, c. 1862

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