– Edna St. Vincent Millay, “Spring”
I know that we cannot depend on the return of Spring to heal us~
it is balm not cure,
our brains losing synapses day by day.
I know that none of Spring’s beauty can bloom without a dying before~
it is a shroud thrown over to cover our decay.
I know I cannot be transformed simply by the warmth of the sun~
it is not enough for my skin to sweat when my heart lies still and cold.
I know I must dig deeper into holy ground for the truth~
it does not lie in perfumed blossoms and sweet blue skies.
I know what I know~
life in itself is nothing unless
death is overcome yet again
and our hearts, once broken,
healed again and again,
begin to pulse red once more.