April, Come She Will

Variations on: April, Come She Will

by Simon and Garfunkel

"April come she will
When streams are ripe and swelled with rain;"

Spring rekindles hope anew within me. I am constantly renewed with hope for life. A beautiful life. A pure life. A hope I dare not invest in. Unspoiled, like the blossoming fields or newborn children. Fresh with hope for a better tomorrow.


"May, she will stay,
Resting in my arms again."

As spring moves into summer, I feel myself try to hold on to that purity. I want to grasp the hope. Inadvertently I begin to crush it with my fear. The longing I have to be innocent again begins to soil that which was once also pure.


"June, she'll change her tune,
In restless walks she'll prowl the night;"

All too predictably hope becomes listless when faith wanes. And forsaking me, leaves the hole deeper and darker than it ever could have been without her.


"July, she will fly
And give no warning to her flight."

Thus sullied, hope leaves for good. As suddenly as she appeared, she disappears.


"August, die she must,
The autumn winds blow chilly and cold;
September I'll remember
A love once new has now grown old."

Dying thusly is seems impossible to imagine how, or if, I will make it through the winter. Perhaps this time, I will not.