Here in Nice, wisteria is in full bloom everywhere: cascading over fences, climbing up walls, surprising your breath with a cloud of perfume as you turn a corner. Trees with purple blossoms, trees with brilliant white blossoms, and low shrubs covered with hundreds of daffodil-yellow flowers make light brushstrokes of color on the hillsides. The world is moving forward, and poet Stuart Kestenbaum captures it perfectly.
Just before the green begins there is the hint of green
a blush of color, and the red buds thicken
the ends of the maple’s branches and everything
is poised before the start of a new world,
which is really the same world
just moving forward from bud
to flower to blossom to fruit
to harvest to sweet sleep, and the roots
await the next signal, every signal
every call a miracle and the switchboard
is lighting up and the operators are
standing by in the pledge drive we’ve
all been listening to: Go make the call.
“April Prayer” by Stuart Kestenbaum, from Prayers & Run-on Sentences. © Deerbrook Editions, 2007. (buy at Amazon | buy at SPDbooks)
Go to the library. Take out a book of poetry. Go lie on the grass under a flowering tree and read poems – to yourself, your lover, your kids.