To bloom and branch

Today's Dickinsonian oracle. May you branch, too. Or at least tingle.

I am alive - I guess -
The Branches on my Hand
Are full of Morning Glory -
And at my finger's end -

The Carmine - tingles warm -
And if I hold a Glass
Across my mouth - it blurs it -
Physician's - proof of Breath -
(E. Dickinson, from 605)