Easter Everywhere

I sniff a spring in the air. It's been such a long long while. First came the bud-heavy dogwoods, exhausting the atmosphere with the scent of warmth. At least thats what I smells like to me. The smell of a giant placid white cushion butressing summer and the descent of fall. Lately though its been the foreign cherries and the texas quince catching the twinkle in my eye. They werent dead never dead they were always here, the secret to life is patience; waiting as an art. Can you wait fully? Can I wait fully I meant to say. And I am learning. I forgot that underneath the dull sheath of bark and antique rotting leaves are the future memories of spring. Even in the stark state of winter it's there. I forget like falling asleep. I forget my heart is brimming there too. Underneath. And blooming too with blood as rich as apples skin and just as red.