From Joh, a Guardian mood/poetry matcher. Weird. Nice poem, and the assessment of my mood is not widely off the mark. However, I’m not quite sure I see the link between the poem and the assumed mood. Which was also what Joh objected to too, in a way.
Anyhoo, a spot of Dickinson in the morning is no bad thing.
Mood assessment: “Sometimes you just feel like getting away from it all – to some pure, solitary mountain top where you can wander, free as a bird… but if you’re stuck behind a desktop instead, take some solace in this.”
And the “appropriate” poem:
These are the days when the birds come back
These are the days when Birds come back –
A very few – a Bird or two –
To take a backward look.
These are the days when skies resume
The old – old sophistries of June –
A blue and gold mistake.
Oh fraud that cannot cheat the Bee –
Almost thy plausibility
Induces my belief.
Till ranks of seeds their witness bear –
And softly thro’ the altered air
Hurries a timid leaf.
Oh Sacrament of summer days,
Oh Last Communion in the Haze –
Permit a child to join.
Thy sacred emblems to partake –
Thy consecrated bread to take
And thine immortal wine!
Emily Dickinson (1830 – 1886)