To what purpose, April, do you return again?
Beauty is not enough.
You can no longer quiet me with the redness
Of little leaves opening stickily.
I know what I know.
The sun is hot on my neck as I observe
The spikes of crocus.
The smell of the earth is good.
It is apparent that there is no death.
But what does that signify?
Not only under ground are the brains of men
Eaten by maggots.
Life in itself
Is nothing,
An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs.
It is not enough that yearly, down this hill,
April
Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.
Still I cannot help it but love idiotic April. And it is indeed quite lovely that from rotting brains (below or above grounds) flowers bloom. Also, to say “life is nothing” sounds like a tantrum. Life is possibility, opportunity, caterpillars transforming into butterflies, making or buying or finding a rug for “uncarpeted stairs,” or simply learning to appreciate hard climbs in their own right.
Which is why I feel a tea blend in honor of the gurgling season is a wonderful idea. This tea combines flowers as a nod to buds and blossoms, and lemongrass in celebration of sprouting flora. And I think it tastes like spring, too. 😉
