I read my sentence - steadily . . . - Emily Dickinson

We never know how high we are till we are called to rise. Then if we are true to form our statures touch the skies.

Forever – is composed of Nows – (690)

Forever – is composed of Nows –
‘Tis not a different time –
Except for Infiniteness –
And Latitude of Home –

From this – experienced Here –
Remove the Dates – to These –
Let Months dissolve in further Months –
And Years – exhale in Years –

Without Debate – or Pause –
Or Celebrated Days –
No different Our Years would be
From Anno Dominies –

I know that He exists.
Somewhere – in silence –
He has hid his rare life
From our gross eyes.