Lately, I haven't posted anything of much importance. A few pictures about my new life, but really nothing of much meaning in my own heart. My mom sent this poem to me. I thought I would pass it on to you. Something from my own heart that I didn't spend hours writing. Enjoy :)
The soul selects her own society,
Then shuts the door;
On her divine majority
Obtrude no more.
Unmoved, she notes the chariot's pausing
At her low gate;
Unmoved, an emperor is kneeling
Upon her mat.
I've known her from an ample nation
Choose one;
Then close the valves of her attention
Like stone.
-Emily Dickinson
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