Easter

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