But, I am about to be one of those people that posts poems. It’s not in an effort to show you how intellectual I am–it merely is a poem that seems so perfect for this morning. This poem sums up what I am feeling before going back to work more perfectly than my own words could. And isn’t that why people love the quotes section on social website profiles?

Prothalamium
By: Aaron Kramer

Come, all you who are not satisfied

as ruler in a lone, wallpapered room

full of mute birds, and flowers that falsely bloom,

and closets choked with dreams that long ago died!

Come, let us sweep the old streets–like a bride:

sweep out dead leaves with relentless broom;

prepare for Spring, as though he were our groom

for whose light footstep eagerly we bide.

We’ll sweep out shadows, where the rats long fed;

sweep out our shame–and in its place we’ll make

a bower for love, a splendid marriage-bed

fragrant with flowers aquiver for the Spring.

And when he comes, our murdered dreams shall wake;

and when he comes, all the mute birds shall sing.

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