It happens with certainty each spring, yet each year I still feel thankful to see the proof that life did not leave us, give up and slip away somewhere in the dead of winter.  I still feel relief to see the sharp newness of the first green leaves, I still delight in the shock of the first bold flowers, and revel in the warmth of the first full day of sun as though I had lived a year under ground.

 There is no reason to doubt it, but the sight of spring is a proof undeniable.  It props up my sore heart, caged in wait.