The Festival of Freedom, April’s flowering dogwoods, and the Resurrection tell and retell familiar stories. Passover commemorates God’s people breaking free of enslavement. Spring discovers new nests in the crotch of a tree. Easter celebrates the risen Christ. Age-old traditions, arriving annually, encourage us to be like my sister Mary: clasp hands in anticipation and then sit high on Life.
One of my favorite poems is Swinburne’s “Atalanta in Calydon.” These verses, humming with expectation, describe a similar passing from grief to joy, death to life, past to present:
For winter’s rains and ruins are over,
And all the season of snows and sins;
The days dividing lover and lover,
The light that loses, the night that wins;
And time remembered is grief forgotten,
And frosts are slain and flowers begotten,
And in the green underwood and cover
Blossom by blossom the spring begins.