Though some read Emily Dickinson’s “I saw no Way” as a description of a crisis of faith or declaration of profound loneliness, the way to Heaven barred, it for me an ecstatic statement. It may be that these perspectives can be reconciled.
I saw no Way—The Heavens were stitched—
I felt the Columns close—
The Earth reversed her Hemispheres—
I touched the Universe—
And back it slid—and I alone—
A Speck upon a Ball—
Went out upon Circumference—
Beyond the Dip of Bell—
When I sing this poem to the tune of Amazing Grace, it seems to me to be in praise of what cannot be rationally circumscribed. There she is a speck upon a Ball, her poem, like the rhythmic swinging of the tongue of a Bell. reaches out beyond itself (beyond its lip). I often ring a bell for my students and ask them where the sound goes. Wherever it goes, it goes beyond the bell itself and takes us with it, escaping into silence.
I sing in praise.
Of what cannot be known --
We breathe – no paper
Stained with ink.
