spring

Spring has finally come to New York, and it feels like being reborn. 

Something about spring–all those flowers blooming, the trees budding, little green shoots pushing up from the dark soil–makes me want to make things. 

It reminds me of my favorite e.e. cummings poem: 

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 of 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 unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and

now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

Last spring I wrote a lot of haiku. Here’s my favorite: 

Write something today. Anything.