Every tree is a miracle: the ancient birch with vector branches, silver bark and overgrown elephantine trunk; the curly willow, recently pollarded, younger and more strident; the quince, plum, apple and cherry; the prickly holly, the tree that heralds thunderstorms. In an arrangement of fairy stairwells, sulphur mushrooms rise from networks below the soil, blending with the burgeoning green. Paradise means garden. In this patchwork place, flowers glimmer: sharp, pointed petals straddle disturbed earth gazing at the sky like stranded starfish. Overhead, a wild river of feathers infiltrates the air, wheeling and pouring noisily into the sky, a flock of migrating geese, calligraphers of the victorious vee. Today, there is sunshine, and a gentle breeze oscillates late daffodils, from which rise a pair of bees, their hum a bass line to the chirrs and flickers erupting from nature’s music box. All along the garden boundary, miniature forests of nettles arise, full of the zingy zephyr of spring; pale thistles nod in agreement with the bluest speedwells and blushing primulas nestling between green. Kim M. Russell, 13th April 2022
On the thirteenth day of NaPoWriMo, the challenge is to write a poem that, like the example poem, joyfully states both in the poem and in the title that ‘Everything is Going to Be Amazing’. As it says in the prompt: “Sometimes, good fortune can seem impossibly distant, but even if you can’t drum up the enthusiasm to write yourself a riotous pep-talk, perhaps you can muse on the possibility of good things coming down the track.” I wrote an acrostic using the title words.