A hidden valley, deep within,
That cuts my soul divine.
A sacred secret gorged ravine
That hosts a shining sign.
And through the middle, in lovely dreams
I sought a burnished prize.
It blasted upward, heavenly,
Into the blood red skies.
I wither quickly into retreat,
I'm forced to down my eyes.
I cannot face it outwardly,
I'm running to demise.
I retreat to my temple inwardly
And curl up in protection.
Cut out this cruel world's bigotry,
Retreat and cry rejection.
I worship holy emptiness
That has dimensions vast.
I kneel before its vicious fire
That scorches with its blast.
Shredded ribbons of my parts,
Flayed like captive slaves,
Slit me, open wide apart,
Condemn me to the waves.
And down within I reach my glen
Crowned with sweeping green.
I've lost this earth, but far beneath,
I'll forever sleep serene.

Emily Dickinson, American poet, was born today in 1830.

Alfred Nobel, Swedish businessman, chemist, inventor and philanthropist, who bequeathed his fortune to the institute of the Nobel Prize, died today in 1896.