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,
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
Photo: Langs Beach, New Zealand