A Poem: Quiet

Why is it when silence falls
and the house is quiet
I cannot look at my long lists
though the tasks
stack upon themselves.

Why, when I have so much planned to achieve,
do I find myself measuring time
by contemplating the
way light hits the trees
as the day rises.

By how the clouds have shifted,
and how this place here on the garden seat
facing the sunlight,
beckons as though
nothing else mattered.

Why is it that the life I want
becomes the one right here,
where nothing is happening
but where everything
has come to greet me,

as though it had been waiting
for me to make it space.
As though the real work were here.
This entirety.
A universe in the corner of the world.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
October 2018

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