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  • Consider the cherry tree. Consider the blossoms. If you know winter, and live in a winter country, if you have wintered in to your soul, and if you have believed there will never again be another spring, consider the cherry tree.

    Consider one, consider a hillside. They are oblivious, as is true beauty.

    They know a secret sap, they know a formula, it is called the wonder. It is working while you sleep and deny its existence. It is working on its secret spring.

    It has heard of disasters on its bark, it has heard of nuclear winds, hot toxic on its buildings, it has heard of the neighbourhood a rumble of boats and sticks which used to be human shelter. It has heard the tears. The rents and the water.

    But the cherry tree has a job to do. To spread, to open its wings, to make pink snow upon the ground. To bring solace. To straighten us out. To bring us the breath pause.

    Consider the buds, the blossoms in their openings. Consider spring, even in disasters, friends, do not leave spring out of your heart's equation. The paleness, the deepening, the shades and hues and tints, it will blossom without you, it will do its quiet work, it will go from one, in blossom, to make a hillside.

    Consider the cherry tree. Consider cherry blossom spring. The nuclear rain rains down, but the cherry blossom rain rains down, too. Let us fill our eyes with the many explosions, and the fragrance of nature's defiance.


    (Sketch by Susan)
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