A little past 8 pm last night ld and I left the temple. I hadn't been to the Provo one in years. The sunset and view, breathtaking. The sun had slipped below the horizon and only a faint glow remained. The lights from the city were on. So lovely. And for once this season the weather was just right, as it should be, Spring-like. My guy asked me if I was up for a Root beer float.
Of course. We settled on a cherry lime freezee-drink-something from Sonic.
I woke up this morning to the sweet memory of a beautiful last night.
A little Edna St. Vincent Millay, then. She talks of Fall, I feel this about my Spring.
O world, I cannot hold thee close enough!
Thy winds, thy wide grey skies!
Thy mists that roll and rise!
Thy woods, this autumn day, that ache and sag
And all but cry with colour! That gaunt crag
To crush! To lift the lean of that black bluff!
World, World, I cannot get thee close enough!
Long have I known a glory in it all,
But never knew I this;
Here such a passion is
As stretcheth me apart. Lord, I do fear
Thou'st made the world too beautiful this year.
My soul is all but out of me, let fall
No burning leaf; prithee, let no bird call.
Remember, people. April is National Poetry month. Celebrate.