From:

THE WASTELAND. TS ELIOT.

Part One: The Burial of the Dead.

April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers....

I had to do it. Especially since my survivor lilac is pushing out so many new blooms. The word April makes me think of this amazing, crazy poem. Long poem for sure. This is just the first few lines of the piece which is 4 long sections. But a delight to read, especially out loud...