Living Tree Poetry

It’s the opposite
that we need
sometimes.

When life weighs hard
instead of dropping
we lift our reach,
to watch the load fall
as water shed.

When our eyes are sore
from introspection
instead of closing
we open wide our lids,
to see a horizon clear.

When grief visits,
instead of guarding
the heart
from pain’s presence,
we retreat and give admittance.

When loss is forecast,
or appears sudden
as a downpour,
instead of sheltering
we stand and get wet.

And when sorrow falls
instead of turning in,
and curling like a spent leaf,
we unfold like the fern does
to show its silver underside.

It’s the opposite,
opening up.
The opposite of our instincts
to protect the well-drawn
boundary lines.

But the opposite of what
we think we want,
is often what we need,
though It may appear
as pleasure traded in for pain.

But just as pleasure is short
sorrow does not last,
and loss turns inside out
to become a gift
we did not expect.

And joy returns
perpetually,
as a cleansing downpour
to leave us standing surprised
by the light.

Ana Lisa de Jong
July 2018