The world is alive.
We think we exist as masters of our fate
and captains of this ship.
Until every now and then the earth takes a breath
and moves as if to dislodge us.
We realise then, our frailty
as passengers, and as guests
who for a moment have come to visit
a beautiful, unpredictable place,
not our own.
We realise then, when we think in this vein,
that to be tolerated by a living breathing animal,
upon whose back we live,
is not to be discounted,
only respected.
We are not the captains,
the masters of our fate,
but the ones for whom earth is a borrowed home
and its wonder and beauty,
an unearned gift.
We would do well to remember,
and to try with all our might
to hold on,
as a rider who straddles a horses girth
might enjoy the ride.
Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
May 2018
Photo:Â Langs Beach, New Zealand
Living Tree Poetry 