My favorite poet said that... and in a tiny way, I agree, but maybe for a different reason than his...
I have a lot to say in the Winter. Mostly because winter is like this vice that squeezes me to the point of bursting... I'm not sure why that is... but when it is winter, I think long on a few things... there isn't much to look at, so I sit with my thoughts and get overly opinionated... and I have a lot to say. When Spring comes... all thoughts scatter. Not because nothing deserves to be discussed, rather because everything--absolutely everything--deserves comment. Spring is always so shocking, so triumphant... all those things poets said about "all things of the universe are miracles"... those ridiculous statements seem so self-evident all the sudden. What do you say when you should say something about everything?
You say nothing... you just go outside...
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we chose our baby girl's hymn... just a song we hope to sing / play often and to talk about when she's older, "Fairest Lord Jesus" I think the song was partly on my mind because just about the time spring started to appear here we found out that a baby girl would be our much anticipated child... this stanza says it well:
ReplyDeleteFair are the meadows, fairer still the woodlands,
robed in the blooming garb of spring:
Jesus is fairer, Jesus is purer
who makes the woeful heart to sing.