It's so difficult to believe that the lifeless bushes and leafless trees will ever be green. It's so difficult to believe things turn around as they most certainly always do. The whole world seems just a little uncertain, a little hollow and a bit empty of color and joy right now.
I never really thought much about the word "hope" - not until this election and everyone echoing that one phrase. But now I must say it truly will be the one thing we will all have to believe in the most. And if something as fragile as a slip of a crocus flower can work its way through our Oregon clay soil, then we should be able to keep our heads up too.
HOPE is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune - without the words,
And never stops at all,
April is National Poetry Month and in one of the magazines they are promoting April 30 as "Poem in Your Pocket Day," where you carry around a poem to share or exchange with someone else. Cool idea. I know someone who was thinking of writing a poem a day in April. Might be a good thought! I wonder how many poems have been written about "hope"?
There are many good things going on in the back yard. I thought I saw forsythia flowers along the fence. I'll pick a few branches tomorrow and force them to bloom. That yellow will wake up the meanest spirit.
One more library card is on its way to Nathalie in Missouri. (There's one left to give away.) I hope she enjoys her portion of the story. It will really be mysterious, however, since the other seven parts of it are spread around the globe! What a thrilling thought. Now if they only come back together. Well, we're going to listen to the Battlefield Band tonight. Cheers - femminismo