Ken & Belinda Meditate in a Garden
Two figures statue-still sit in the garden
gathering the light
eyes closed, hands pressed on knees
whilst an unseasonal sun
silvers their skin like weathered teak,
waiting for moss to bloom on trainers
grass knot through their laces, bind their feet.
Spines rigid as the far slate wall
whose secret strength is letting weather pass
so each sound, each smell
– the ooze of windfall apples, drunken birdsong
a breeze of October butterflies –
briefly inhabits
then breathes through each mind.
Sit as still as this for long enough
and you can disappear
into the landscape. Become the things unseen
yet elemental, Like a memory of rain
falling on a clouded valley,
or the pricking sense of faces
peering through the conscious green.
Emma Simon lives in London where she juggles poetry with parenthood and journalism. Despite often grabbing the wrong end of the lighted torch, she has been published in Other Poetry, Antiphon and Monkey Kettle, and won this year’s Prole Laureate competition.