One day in May
The path you walk is impossible,
no longer a path, really
blocked by unfurling ferns
and a jungle of nettles.
Brave bluebells bounce
but you can’t get near enough
for that Instagrammable blue blur –
the brambles are a thicket and
salady fresh new nettles sprawl upwards.
All the weeks and hours you grumbled,
secretly fearing the soil would stay
metal cold and everything would always
be the colour of mud.
Now you know the silent, subtle simmering
had been going on underground –
creating eruptions of
branch, leaf, sap, tendril,
petal, bud, seed and stalk –
apparently instantly,
winter’s yearning eclipsed.
