Revery/reverie

Happy 2011! I have greeted the New Year with a head cold and a good deal of general grumpiness. So i skipped church this morning for some quiet time and finished reading The Cross and the Switchblade...which was both encouraging and brought up some questions. Like, the author (Reverend David Wilkerson) would pray things like, "Dear Lord, if you want _______, then please make it evident by making _______ happen." And the signs he asked for quite often came to pass. which is not how i pray at all...because i think at some point i got the idea that such prayers were a way of 'testing' God in a sinful way, or something. or maybe more, i'm just afraid that the things i ask will never come to pass because they're the wrong things and i'll Still not know what He wants of me. of i'm afraid to give up control of my life by being more evidently Led. hm...book recommended.
Next, today's poem has something to do with--or at least it brought to mind--this poem of Emily Dickinson:

To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee.
One clover, and a bee.
And revery.
The revery alone will do,
If bees are few.

Which was, incidentally, the last poem Mr. Estes had us memorize in 9th grade, a year of a great deal of magnificent poem-memorization. At the end of that year, alot of things changed so it is a poem charged with memory and wistfulness. Although, truth be told, the things that I long for most are things that occurred after that year i believe. (I don't know if you can tell, but in the closer version of the illustration above, there is a wilted flower and a bee flying away from it and out of the brain space.) Finally, one last bit of trivia: i cannot, after growing up in Kansas, the land of the prairie, spell the word "prairie." i mean, i can now that i've been corrected several times by spell check ('prarie' always underlined in red). Weird.

Once upon a time--to wit,
But One bright second spun--
Two eyelids dropped in reverie,
Yet, as the act was done,
Their universe tipped dizzily,
Met Dark and Light and Why?
Thus fragile reverie lost out
To doubting you and I.