“Expanse cannot be lost —”, by Emily Dickinson, is a daydream poem for this last day before Barack Obama will be sworn in as United States President.

Expanse cannot be lost –
Not Joy, but a Decree
Is Deity –
His Scene, Infinity –
Whose rumor’s Gate was shut so tight
Before my Beam was sown,
Not even a Prognostic’s push
Could make a Dent thereon –

The World that thou hast opened
Shuts for thee,
But not alone,
We all have followed thee –
Escape more slowly
To thy Tracts of Sheen –
The Tent is listening,
But the Troops are gone!

If I don’t allow financial errors and business schemes to destroy my reality, no foul intent has the power in itself to erase the expanse of my life. Much can be destroyed, but “Not Joy”.  Meanness has the power to disrupt my plans, “but a Decree (that I thrive) Is Deity — ”

Headlines and speeches “Whose rumor’s Gate was shut so tight” want to convince me otherwise. Is my will to help myself and others, to genuinely come to the aid of one who needs it, intact? “Before my Beam was sown” — prior to aiming my worthwhile intentions — “Not even a Prognostic’s push” — not even the force of a respected author and predictor of ruin, “Could make a Dent thereon —”.

“The World that (the 44th president) hast opened” is imagination, a fantasy worthy of romantic literature and poetry in the mind of the body politic. With a persona to rival Troy’s Helen “that launched a thousand ships,” something else may have happened to Obama. With Secret Service tactics “reminiscent of Moscow in 1955”, as George Will, the columnist said, the world “Shuts for thee”

Never fear, President Obama, you are “But not alone, / We all have followed thee —”.

The glossy campaign “Escape more slowly / To thy Tracts of Sheen — ”.  

We are gathered by the millions in Washington, D. C.  The remainder have turned on the TV. “The Tent is listening,”.

“But the Troops are gone!” The forces of denial toward you are mostly spent. History’s errors and schemes are gone with the wind. 

Digest A Poem A Day — Accept What Comes Your Way