To awake to you,
is my prayer.
I don’t want to miss a moment
asleep,
if I can be more aware of you
near.
To be close in proximity
but ignorant of your presence,
what grief.
Instead,
I want to be as a bird alighting on a branch,
or a leaf on the wind.
Always in tune
with the bearer of the elements,
and depending
on your provision.
Not walking without
the intention
of taking you with me.
To awaken to you,
is my prayer.
A world with senses dulled
is a world bereft.
A world that cannot
see beyond its own self,
misses all the rest
that you would give,
gifts unclaimed at our feet.
A world that can’t see
beyond the church walls.
Or the self’s prison,
cannot see itself lit up
against the sky;
with the angelic host of Saints,
and Creeds,
which together make the body
of Christ.
To not see ourselves in him,
and him in each other,
what loss.
Lord wake us up.
Ana Lisa de Jong
November 2017
Image: Noah Silliman, courtesy of Unsplash
Living Tree Poetry 