Sacred Tree

By my Window have I for Scenery Just a Sea — with a Stem — If the Bud and the Farmer — deem it a “Pine” — The Opinion will serve — for them — It has no Port, nor a “Line” — but the Jays — That split their route to the Sky — Or a Squirrel, whose giddy Peninsula May be easier reached — this way For Inlands — the Earth is the under side — And the upper side — is the Sun — And its Commerce — if Commerce it have — Of Spice — In infer from the Odors borne — Of its Voice — to affirm — when the Wind is within — Can the Dumb — define the Divine? The Definition of Melody — is — That Definition is none —

It — suggests to our Faith — They — suggest to our Sight — When the latter — is put away I shall meet with Conviction I somewhere met That Immortality —

Was the Pine at my Window a “Fellow Of the Royal” Infinity? Apprehensions — are God’s introductions — To be hallowed — accordingly —

Emily Dickinson, c. 1863