The air was replete with birdsong,
Heavy with light and life
But that was in the day
And now the night has come.

With darkness’ descent,
The breeze is suffocated,
Breath evacuated,
And every song is stilled.

Watch the flowers close,
Hiding their colours, concealing
Faces, whilst ancient olives
Turn their crinkling backs.

Look, one by one their weighty
Eyes begin to droop,
Joining the garden’s slumber.
Now see! The soldiers come.

Today we remember the Last Supper after which Jesus and his friends head out to the Garden of Gethsemane where Jesus was arrested. The opening line came from a walk this lunchtime in Lee Valley Park which was glorious with birdsong; a counterpoint to my reflections on the day.
(02.04.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Stacey Franco on Unsplash