Sunday, April 12, 2009


It's Easter, my housemates had their new baby girl, the hostas are coming up, and there's a blush of red on the maple hillsides.  New life everywhere, renewal and change and cause for joy.

And the lost heart stiffens and rejoices
In the lost lilac and the lost sea voices
And the weak spirit quickens to rebel
For the bent golden-rod and lost sea smell
Quickens to recover
The cry of quail and the whirling plover
And the blind eye creates
The empty forms between the ivory gates
And smell renews the salt savor of the sandy earth

-TS Eliot, Ash Wednesday