The world keeps turning…
The green parrots keep flying overhead…
The mother with her new baby arrives – she parks his ( how do you know he’s a boy? Anadi asks) little orange pram beside the bench – gets out her phone and starts her routine… First stepping up and down off the bench, then a lunge matrix… she pushes his (‘I just think he’s a he’, I reply) pram to the open grass to do her ‘frog jumps’ and ‘split squats’…
Anadi and I finish our circuit and go over to the small white building to practise our handstands ( ever improving, but still I need the security of the little white building to balance me…!) She is watching and calls out in admiration, whilst pulling her baby from his pram; she takes him over to the bench to sit and feed…
Multi tasking – baby at her breast, her eyes on her phone – mid exercise routine…
The world keeps turning.
Lapping the park – the familiar figures – we encounter every day.
All of us rising and running at the same time
Each day
Clockwork
Round the park we go
Round the clock we go, following the earth’s rotation each day
Again and again…
Around the sun; a whole year long to journey back to where we first began
Travelling
Very fast
Sixty seven thousand miles an hour
To return to the starting point and set off once more…
Mirrored in us lapping the park on wheels and on legs
Going nowhere
Back to the beginning
Travelling ever inwards if we care to look, up and see the bright blue sky of promise
Of infinite space, endless, limitless
Our spirit free
All that we can be