Because Acceptance is beautiful, and Heaven is overrated. The poetry and musings of Erin Monahan
Friday, April 1, 2005
April 1st snuck in with the fog that was the final ascension of the spirit of March. It was, in my mind, the symbolic representation of the death of winter. We couldn't see the moon and stars, just a grey mist that rose and cloaked the world beyond the window. It put me in the mind of a b&w Starry Night by Van Gogh with all the swirls of silver around the streetlights above the houses. It was all oddly ethereal, as the arrival of Spring tends to be for me.