Woman Singing in a Garden

Judith Beveridge

Who knows why you’re singing with such full-throated want—

perhaps it’s the day’s green ventriloquism, perhaps it’s the seeding

of rampant new love. Perhaps you’ve sung your whole garden

into existence: peonies, hollyhocks, roses, seed-kissed grasses.

Perhaps you think no-one can hear you in this verdant theatre—

but I’m all ears, not a word unheard. I don’t think you’d mind me

standing by this hedge, even if you did, I don’t think you’d halt

your tillering tongue. I could listen to you all morning, caught

in this wild assurance, this warm sudden grace—but it’s more

than just the surprise of hearing you sing as easefully as the rain

with its desire to touch roots, it’s about my need to listen,

to stay close to this place of permission, to carry into my day

your vivifying resolve. Whatever makes you sing, though you

can barely bend to the weeds, or rake leaves without pausing

to rest, may you keep on, free of restraint, as ardent, insistent

as the day’s zesting sun—a woman rejoicing, robust with song.

JUDITH BEVERIDGE has published eight books of poetry, mostly recently Tintinnabulum (Giramondo Publishing, 2024). She was poetry editor of Meanjin for 10 years and taught poetry writing for 16 years at the University of Sydney. Sun Music: New and Selected Poems won the Prime Minister’s Literary Award for Poetry in 2019.