Welcome to Living Tree Poetry, and the writings of poet Ana Lisa de Jong. Ana Lisa is author of the ‘Poetry for the Soul’ series, including ‘Songs in the Night’, ‘Hope Springs’
and ‘Seeking the Light’. Her next books ‘Heart Psalms’ and ‘Thrice Blessed’ ,
a two volume set, are on their way to print in late 2018.
Pull up a chair and take some time to be refreshed and restored, from words that take their inspiration from an eternal source.
“My Life is a tree, yoke fellow of the earth; pledged by roots too deep for remembrance. To stand hard against the storm. To fill my place. (But high in the branches of my green tree there is a wild bird singing: wing-free are the wings of my bird: she hath built no mortal nest.”
Karle Wilson Baker
“But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him. They will be like a tree planted by the water, that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit.”
Jeremiah 17:7-8, NIV
HOW TO FOLLOW A POEM
Watch how the sun rises.
First the tip of the clouds turn pink, and then gold
on a horizon.
Something happens to our hearts,
the leap of expectation.
The birds seem to know to fly
at this time.
Each soaring figure outlined
against the sky,
as black ink etched in the vision.
Watch how the branches
of each tree move to the wind’s tune.
How the face of the leaves
catch the hues of a rising sun.
How all of nature appears to bid dawn welcome.
Watch how the rainbow just came and went
before there was a chance to register it.
Before we could trace its colours
against the blue,
how it faded and then exited.
A poem is followed
with the same pattern of observation.
We don’t consider the words in an
individual sense as
respond to the scene as a whole.
when we stop trying to understand,
but just watch.
The great artist has a brush, and is
painting impressions on our hearts and minds.
We see them with eyes
that feel rather than perceive.
Shapes felt in the hands
as objects in the dark.
Every now and then a shock of recognition.
But mostly just a welcome,
and an indwelling presence.
Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry