The Veins of other Flowers

The Veins of other Flowers
The Scarlet Flowers are
Till Nature leisure has for Terms
As "Branch," and "Jugular."

We pass, and she abides.
We conjugate Her Skill
While She creates and federates
Without a syllable.


     -Fr798, J811, sheet 21, 1865


This was a tough poem to “get.”

The first stanza makes a very wonky Yoda-like sentence. “The veins of other Flowers the Scarlet Flowers are, 'till Nature leisure has for Terms as “Branch” and “Jugular.”

Let’s start by trying to put that in a more regular sentence form. “The scarlet flowers are like the veins of other flowers, until Nature has leisure for terms such as "branch" and "jugular."

Why would scarlet flowers be like veins of "other Flowers"? Here’s my best guess for what’s going on here. I think "other Flowers" is referring to humans. Dickinson is saying that if we set terms aside, then human veins, such as the jugular, can be likened to branches of scarlet flowers, and, inversely, branches of scarlet flowers can be seen as jugular veins. If we get beyond "terms," then we can more easily see that humans are like flowers, and flowers, human.

Since Dickinson often sent riddle-like poems along with flowers from her garden as gifts to friends (see Fr726 for a brilliant example of this), it made me wonder what flowers might have possibly accompanied this riddle of a poem. I did some research and I found out that Cardinal Flowers could well have been growing in Dickinson's garden. They fit the criteria; they're scarlet and shaped like a branch, look like jugular veins and are the color of blood.

Cardinal flowers, or a stand of jugular veins? 

The next stanza adds a new dimension to this idea. It starts with a pithy and memorable line:

We pass, and she abides.

This line ends, pointedly, with a period, not a dash. In fact this is a rare Dickinson poem in which there are no dashes. 

Dickinson loved this word “abides.” (See Fr654, “Beauty…abides.”) It’s a common theme of Dickinson's poetry, and poetry in general; nature’s permanence versus our impermanence. The idea that nature continues on long after we are gone is a comforting thought.

It’s ironic, though, that we humans, who are just passing through, attempt to control nature through language, through terms and conjugations:

We conjugate Her Skill

I love this line, because conjugating is what we do to verbs. Nature is in flow, in flux, is always "verbing," and to try to conjugate this "Skill" is almost laughable.

While She creates and federates
Without a syllable.

We attempt to make ourselves permanent by giving names to things, and perhaps, even, by writing poems.

Maybe Dickinson is poking a bit of fun at herself here. Syllables are the very building blocks of poetry, but Nature creates and federates (governs) without any need of that.

This poem dovetails beautifully with the last one in the Franklin order, Fr797, which begins with the lines, “The Definition of Beauty is/ That Definition is none—” When we go beyond terms and definitions, it isn’t so difficult to see anew, to see, for instance, the way humans flower and flowers are human, the stuff of life coursing through the veins of both.

     -/)dam Wade l)eGraff

Michaelangelo's David exhibits a very prominent jugular vein