Hummer of a day

Every year I have the students pick
an Emily Dickinson poem I haven't read before
(pick a number between 886 and 1784)
and then we try to solve the riddle together.

Today there were some good ones.

The first one was this:

Only a Shrine, but Mine—
I made the Taper shine—
Madonna dim, to whom all Feet may come,
Regard a Nun—

Thou knowest every Woe—
Needless to tell thee—so—
But can'st thou do
The Grace next to it—heal?
That looks a harder skill to us—
Still—just as easy, if it be thy Will
To thee—Grant me—
Thou knowest, though, so Why tell thee?

The poem lead to a terrific conversation.
Among many other things, we talked about
the way the first stanza uses the M.
"Madonna dim, to whom all Feet may come."
We talked about how the M is
a special sound, sacred to some.
It's a baby's first word, "maaa maaa,"
the lips pressed together to mimic nursing,
a sign for hunger, lips pointing toward mother,
and thus a baby names her
in its desire for sustenance.
Milk. MMMMMM. Yum.

We talked about all those other M words
like om and home and poem
and alm and balm and calm.

Then in the following period,
the random poem the class chose
featured the same rhyme and so
we talked about M some more.

The poem:

Spring comes on the World—
I sight the Aprils—
Hueless to me until thou come
As, till the Bee
Blossoms stand negative,
Touched to Conditions
By a Hum.

Come and Hum. Why is Hum capitalized
one student wondered. Why indeed!
It's all about that Hum.

Do you feel it when Spring comes?
How about with the arrival of love?

I came home humming.