Robert Frost was born 133 years ago today: March 26, 1874. I've always loved that I get to share a birthday with Frost. Plus it keeps me feeling young!
I couldn't decide what poem to put up in honor of the occasion. It's still a bit too early for "Nothing Gold Can Stay" which I always quote every year when the tree buds have just unfurled and covered the landscape in tender, new green. We're not there, and we're not yet to the buterflied April skies of "Blue-Butterfly Day." I guess I will go with standard Frost spring fare -- and such a lovely standard it is. I can remember trying to imitate this poem with one of my own when I was in 10th grade. Frost's work has always been an inspiration.
A Prayer in Spring
Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers today;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year.
Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white,
Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;
And make us happy in the happy bees,
The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.
And make us happy in the darting bird
That suddenly above the bees is heard,
The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill,
And off a blossom in mid air stands still.
For this is love and nothing else is love,
To which it is reserved for God above
To sanctify to what far ends he will,
But which it only needs that we fulfill.
-- Robert Frost