Poetry Corner with Larry Spiro: April 2022

Here are three poems about April. Wow imagine being on the same page as T.S. Eliot and Edna St. Vincent Millay and Emily Dickenson. Wait I hope you didn’t’ notice something….

April—a meditation
by Lawrence Spiro

From the depth of cold appears the allusion of slumber.
Grey is enlightened now//The prophecy of the universe begins.
There is a conversation with one’s heart seeing future waterways
flowing in the inner direction of peace and verdant wonder.

Open your eye and lift and lower, slowly remove
the mystery of stone and darkness// Let silence speak.
The morning will replace the fear at night with faith,
time transmigrates to applause and maddening laugh.

Delight in the celebration of the first bloom as flute and lute lead the way.
Shake your open hands towards heaven//Explode with emotion.
Exult in the ecstasy and rapture of a sweet life in perennial proof.
Tremble with joy at the announcement for here is paradise.
Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.

by Edna St. Vincent Millay

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 the 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,
Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.

The Waste Land
by T. S. ELIOT
I. The Burial of the Dead

April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers….

Absent Place — an April Day
by Emily Dickinson

Absent Place — an April Day —
Daffodils a-blow
Homesick curiosity
To the Souls that snow —

Drift may block within it
Deeper than without —
Daffodil delight but
Him it duplicate —