April is the cruellest month, breeding | |
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing | |
Memory and desire, stirring | |
Dull roots with spring rain. ----T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land |
I don't know if I've indulged myself in sharing my complete and utter devotion to T.S. Eliot with you before, but man do I have a poet-crush. This crush has lasted for the past 9 years, so I'd be comfortable with saying it's now a deep-seated love, not just a poet crush, but either way, isn't that stanza just beautiful?
The images are gorgeous and tangible and tantalizing. The verbs at the end of each line sound like a weird recipe. And lilacs? The heavens couldn't smell better, all glazed in spring rain. It captures April perfectly.
But the thing is, I think of this stanza when things get hard throughout the year, not just in the spring, and definitely just not in April, and I think it's because Eliot was perfect in his mixing of nature and emotion and letting the images translate for themselves.
If I was back home, I'd make a big batch of these Flourless Peanut Butter Cookies for everyone I know, especially my Grandpa, and serve them warm and fresh with an ice cold glass of milk. We'd play some card games, laugh, tell stories of old hunting and fishing trips around the kitchen table, and forget about the fickleness of spring and the funny way life sometimes is, and sometimes isn't.
Because these cookies are so silly easy, and are so silly good, and so necessary. Sometimes, just a plate of warm peanut butter cookies are good for more than just a few minutes. They're good for a lifetime.