Inspiration:
He halted in the wind, and, what was that
Far in the maples, pale, but not a ghost?
He stood there bringing March against his thought,
And yet too ready to believe the most.‘Oh, that’s the Paradise-in-bloom,’ I said;
And truly it was fair enough for flowers
had we but in us to assume in March
Such white luxuriance of May for ours.We stood a moment so in a strange world,
Myself as one his own pretense deceives;
And then I said the truth (and we moved on).
A young beech clinging to its last year’s leaves.— Robert Frost
Rev. Meg: Forgiveness and Brokenness
“…and one day, I realized: I don’t know why she doesn’t like me!”
