I cannot truly fathom 'forever'.  That's why I almost always referrent 'one day short of forever'.  Truth is, today is one day short of forever.  And tomorrow will soon again become today.

Today is the last day of Winter. One day short of a forever frigidness that luckily eludes us.   I assured you (yes, click here for my vision, duly completed) that we’d make it this far.  Those of you who have ridden on my shoulders on incessant 7-mile jogs through the blizzardly wintertime of Dreamland (the cemetery) may now dismount.  Spring Eve and life scuffles out of the shadows and prepares to parade about.  And the most amazing things yet—us—are about to prance the vernal strut and join the carnal dance.  For, when faces called flowers…

 
float out of the ground
and breathing is wishing and wishing is having-
but keeping is downward and doubting and never
-it's april(yes,april;my darling)it's spring!
yes the pretty birds frolic as spry as can fly
yes the little fish gambol as glad as can be
(yes the mountains are dancing together)

when every leaf opens without any sound
and wishing is having and having is giving-
but keeping is doting and nothing and nonsense
-alive;we're alive,dear:it's(kiss me now)spring!
now the pretty birds hover so she and so he
now the little fish quiver so you and so i
(now the mountains are dancing, the mountains)

when more than was lost has been found has been found
and having is giving and giving is living-
but keeping is darkness and winter and cringing
-it's spring(all our night becomes day)o,it's spring!
all the pretty birds dive to the heart of the sky
all the little fish climb through the mind of the sea
(all the mountains are dancing;are dancing)
    - e.e.cummings 

okay, it’s still March (madness. badness, resist the sadness).  But the mountains are dancing, nonethe(maddening).  (will we do less; will we do us?)

oh yes: Dreamland update. 19 miles covered by the quick-of-foot over the last three days (by me, lessthenone).  Grueling.  Exquisite.  Anticipating you.   And upon this very evening I risked getting locked in Dreamland (as in, gothic gates closing and spending the entire night with the dusty remnants of the once living/loving)  to assist two vagrant, incognizant wandering tourists intoxicated with this Sun-spelled Eve of Spring and apparently unawares of the shafting of the lock.  I am a hero!  (but just for two vagrants, and just for one day).