The Soul selects her own Society—
Then—shuts the Door—
To her divine Majority—
Present no more—
Unmoved—she notes the Chariots—pausing—
At her low Gate—
Unmoved—an Emperor be kneeling
Upon her Mat—
I’ve known her—from an ample nation—
Choose One—
Then—close the Valves of her attention—
Like Stone—
["The Soul selects her own Society" by Emily Dickinson]
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[Castles]
Of the mind
In the sky
Made of sand...
How?
When?
Why?
and where do you reside?