Beauty Is Not Enough

Edna St. Vincent Millay

 

Spring

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.

Life in itself
Is nothing,
An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs.
It is not enough that yearly, down this hill,
April
Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.

~ Edna St. Vincent Millay

It’s spring. Though it feels more like a distant cousin. A time of year in which we struggle to find our place during the uncertainty of seasons. When we throw off our jackets and listen to blue jays. Then huddle in our heavy coats and listen to howling winds. When we both turn our face to the sunshine and dance between raindrops.

It is that unpredictability we crave when the earth beneath our feet is frozen solid in winter or lush with summer greens. But the fickle springtime plays in quicksand, leaving us wishing for stability, making us wary.

Sometimes we see the roughness of the world around us, regardless of its softness and beauty. Sometimes in spite of it. And, sometimes, it just ceases to be enough.

In these moments, I take a deep breath and return to my OneWord for this year: “embrace”. I embrace the uncertainty, the rough edges of life, and only then am I able to embrace its beauty.

My random thoughts in 200 words or less.

(This has become an annual celebration of April coming in like an idiot, babbling, and strewing flowers. 3rd year I’ve seen this old post and thought “how fitting…” The uncertainty of spring mirrors life yet again.) 

Here’s to embracing the year as it unfolds. Happy Spring, gentle readers. 💚🌿

You can read the entire poem here: Spring by Edna St. Vincent Millay

When Beauty Is Not Enough

 

Edna St. Vincent Millay

 

Spring

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.

Life in itself
Is nothing,
An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs.
It is not enough that yearly, down this hill,
April
Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.

~ Edna St. Vincent Millay

 

It’s spring. Though it feels more like a distant cousin. A time of year in which we struggle to find our place during the uncertainty of seasons. When we throw off our jackets and listen to blue jays. Then huddle in our heavy coats and listen to howling winds. When we both turn our face to the sunshine and dance between raindrops.

It is that unpredictability we crave when the earth beneath our feet is frozen solid in winter or lush with summer greens. But the fickle springtime plays in quicksand, leaving us wishing for stability, making us wary.

Sometimes we know what we know, regardless of the beauty around us. Sometimes in spite of it. And, sometimes, it just ceases to be enough to quiet us.

It is then we raise our voices. To communicate. To be heard. To say that we will not be lulled into silence with the unfurling bud and promise of a bright and beautiful thing.

 

I found this post from last year and thought how fitting, in a very different way, it was this year. The struggle to find our place during this uncertainty. Our craving for unpredictability then, when it arrives, our wish for stability. The wariness. The need to communicate. The promise of an unfurling bud turning into something beautiful not being quite enough anymore. 

Be well, gentle readers. Take care of yourselves. Take care of each other. Create your own joy. Dance between raindrops and turn your face to the sun when it shines. ❤

 

My random thoughts in (a bit over) 200 words.

 

 

You can read the entire poem here: Spring by Edna St. Vincent Millay

 

Beauty Is Not Enough

 

Edna St. Vincent Millay

 

Spring

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.

Life in itself
Is nothing,
An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs.
It is not enough that yearly, down this hill,
April
Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.

~ Edna St. Vincent Millay

 

It’s spring. Though it feels more like a distant cousin. A time of year in which we struggle to find our place during the uncertainty of seasons. When we throw off our jackets and listen to blue jays. Then huddle in our heavy coats and listen to howling winds. When we both turn our face to the sunshine and dance between raindrops.

It is that unpredictability we crave when the earth beneath our feet is frozen solid in winter or lush with summer greens. But the fickle springtime plays in quicksand, leaving us wishing for stability, making us wary.

Sometimes we know what we know, regardless of the beauty around us. Sometimes in spite of it. And, sometimes, it just ceases to be enough to quiet us.

It is then we raise our voices. To communicate. To be heard. To say that we will not be lulled into silence with the unfurling bud and promise of a bright and beautiful thing.

We will not hush.

We will shout.

 

 

My random thoughts in 200 words or less.

 

Here’s to finding your voice, being heard, and speaking up for yourselves. Happy shouting, gentle readers. ❤

You can read the entire poem here: Spring by Edna St. Vincent Millay

 

People are like stained-glass windows…

 

 

“People are like stained-glass windows.
They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within.”

~ Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

 

 

It’s easy to sparkle and shine when there’s light in your life. When you reflect what external sources provide.

There is beauty in a stained-glass window as sun gleams off it.

It’s more difficult when life is cold and dark. When you must rely on your internal flame.

Oh, the breathtaking beauty of a stained-glass window that glows in darkness.

Light yourself a candle, gentle readers.

 

 

 

My Sunday thoughts in 200 words or less.

Still taking a little blogging break but wanted to share this magnificent quote from Elisabeth Kübler-Ross. It is speaking to me now. I’m trying to keep a candle burning. Hope you all are, too.

 

photo source

There is a crack in everything…

 

Leonard Cohen (The New Yorker)

 

“There is a crack in everything.
That’s how the light gets in.”

 

These oft-quoted lines from Leonard Cohen are some of the most beautiful words to ever be strung together.

To me, they speak of hope. The full and complete appreciation of light when submerged in darkness. This is a theme I explore often—both in life and in writing.

Nothing is perfect. Nothing is flawless. And therein lies the beauty.

When we are broken, it is at that time and it is at the place where the break is, that the light gets in.

Leonard Cohen’s poetry and songs have touched many. His voice, singing his remarkable words, never fail to bring me to tears.

Things are broken. But now the light can find its way in.

 

Leonard Cohen: 20 Essential Songs (Rolling Stone)