Easter, "which is natural which is infinite which is yes"

For a lot of different reasons, the last few weeks have been rough. Like day-old stubble rough. Like poorly poured concrete rough. Like bouncing down a mountain made of pumice stone rough.

Well, maybe not that rough, but they haven't been exactly bunny soft, either. Luckily, today was Easter, my favorite of all my family's holidays.

We frosted cookies . . .

and hunted for the golden egg, and played our candy guessing games, and--for some reason--thought that this was a good thing to do to our beloved grandfather on a solemn religious holiday:

Every year about the time spring rolls around, I feel like I need Easter, a second chance, a new year full of baby-soft green grass and egg-blue sky, and every year--wonderfully enough--I get it. And "(now the ears of my ears awake and / now the eyes of my eyes are opened)," and there's nothing to do but to enjoy it.

I haven't read a lot of e. e. cummings, but I always think of this poem on fantastically beautiful, happy days like this one. Happy Easter, all.

[i thank You God for most this amazing]

By e. e. cummings

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth
day of life and love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any--lifted from the no
of all nothing--human merely being
doubt unimaginably You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)