Faith

"Faith" is a fine Invention

by Emily Dickinson

 

"Faith" is a fine invention
When Gentlemen can see—
But Microscopes are prudent
In an Emergency. 

This is not really a topic I care to talk about, and that is just the reason why I am writing about it.  Dickinson mentions in her poem that "Faith" is a fine invention, and I wonder exactly why Dickinson says that faith in a fine invention.  Is there possibly a good explanation as to why Dickinson says that faith is a fine invention?  Better yet...IS faith a fine invention?  Is it even an invention at all.  

I like to believe that faith is not an invention, but that is just my opinion, and have always thought of faith not being an invention.  That might be because I have always been taught that faith isn't an invention, but then I do not know.  I have also found myself second guessing faith as well...

What do you think?

A Book and the Lands it bears

A Book

By Emily Dickinson 

 

There is no frigate like a book
To take us lands away,
Nor any coursers like a page
Of prancing poetry.
This traverse may the poorest take
Without oppress of toll;
How frugal is the chariot
That bears a human soul! 

 I absolutely love the first two lines of this poem!  The first two lines read: 

There is no frigate like a book
To take us lands away,

I like the first two lines of this poem because I have always felt that a book can take the reader far away to lands that are beyond our imagination.  Lands that require us to have an imagination in order to reach the destination.  The amazing thing about books is that they have scenes that we may never dream of or see in reality.  I love picking up a good book and reading it, but I always end up getting lost in the pages and read far much more than I planned to read.  Do you think it is possible for a book to take us to lands that are far away from reality?

Love

 “Why do I love” You, Sir?

 By Emily Dickinson

 

“Why do I love” You, Sir?
Because—
The Wind does not require the Grass
To answer—Wherefore when He pass
She cannot keep Her place.

Because He knows—and
Do not You—
And We know not—
Enough for Us
The Wisdom it be so—

The Lightning—never asked an Eye
Wherefore it shut—when He was by—
Because He knows it cannot speak—
And reasons not contained—
—Of Talk—
There be—preferred by Daintier Folk—

The Sunrise—Sire—compelleth Me—
Because He’s Sunrise—and I see—
Therefore—Then—
I love Thee—

What is love?  Do we even really know what love is?  Maybe so...but..maybe not...This poem by Emily Dickinson is a poem that makes me wonder exactly what love is.  There are several people that may proclaim that they know what love is, but in the end can we paint a specific image of what love is?  For one person, love might be spending the rest of your life with the person that you love.  However, the next person could have a different definition of what love is...It could be something that you cannot live without.  It could be your computer, pets, home, life, job, family, spouse or children, television, music, warm weather, white sandy beaches, and much much more.  

If you do a quick Google search of love, you get the following:

 

love

ləv/

noun

1.

an intense feeling of deep affection.

2.

a person or thing that one loves.

 

verb

1.

feel a deep romantic or sexual attachment to (someone).

 

 

 

These are good definitions, but I don't think this really suffices what love is exactly...Sure we can rely on our definitions and technical terms, but I don't think that is going to help us any.

 

In your own words...what is love to you?

 

To me...Love is many things...It is my pets, and family.  My friends.  Being alive and having the opportunity to go to school and much much more.  Almost to much to count for.  

So..What is love to you?

"HOPE"

“Hope” is the thing with feathers

By Emily Dickinson

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

 

 

 

This is a poem that I love reading by Emily Dickinson.  When I first read this poem, I could not help but wonder a few questions that still to this day evade my mind.  

 

1. Why is "Hope" the thing with feather?

2. What is this thing with feathers?

 

Sure, I have found my own thoughts as to why I am curious about these questions, but I am still not sure what it is about "Hope".  We all want hope, but with this poem, it appears that hope is the thing with feathers.  At first, I thought that the thing was a bird or something, but after reading the poem several times through, I want to believe that the thing is like a little bird that is within ourselves that holds the hope that we are looking for.  I love seeing that we can have hope.

 

Maybe hope is the thing with feathers because it comes and goes within ourselves all the time.  I never really thought of it that way, but that could very well be the case.  One moment, we could have all the hope in the world, but then the next moment, we may not have any hope.  

 

What do you think?