A Poem: Yes

I would like to learn to say ‘Yes’,
more than not.

Not yes to the easy, and familiar,
but yes to everything not open yet.

To everything for which
‘No’ feels more appropriate.

To hard surfaces,
like frozen ground that’s still to thaw,

and the smoothness
of the acorn’s shell.

To hidden things, like chrysalises
and seeds in their husk.

Things that give no appearance
of what’s to come.

Things which need trust and patience
to watch turn and birth,

like seasons, or dreams
still to form.

If I say yes, maybe a door, small as it might be,
may open from within.

Maybe my yes will resonate
and a seed respond to my welcome.

Or my eyes will shed the scales
of a limited vision.

And tears thaw a ground
awaiting spring.

Perhaps the crack I will hear
is that of my own shell breaking.

Or heart, whatever makes the loudest noise
or deepest crevice.

Ye, perhaps we are to hear the sound of yes
and come a bit undone,

until the seams burst,
and we emerge into a world just begun.

Ana Lisa de Jong
March 2018

Image: My own

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