daily haiku
trees sprout baby leaves
blossoms are not far behind
spring pulls at my heart
blossoms are not far behind
spring pulls at my heart
In between storms we are having warm days, and trees and perennials are beginning to open. Even the honeysuckle tree that Ben and I severely pruned last fall, that I thought might be dead, is putting out new sprouts. The next task I have to do for it is one that I hate - treating it with systemic insecticide. Necessary because the ladybirds took off and didn't complete the job of cleaning up the aphids.
I am sprouting too. Torn between holding onto the sharp clear memories of Peter along with its pain, or moving forward into a newer less painful life. Actually I don't think I have much choice. Life is giving me my own spring purging.
A wonderful haiku. That last line says much, but leaves lots unsaid, to be guessed at. We are so fortunate that we can live with painful memories but be gladdened by the sights of spring. The renewal of life.
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