Did you want me to give you an answer?
I am sorry, I didn’t hear the question.
And I didn’t arrive with answers.
Life speaks to me in little truths
that don’t bear witness to anything else,
but the thing that they stand on
in that moment.
But all these things find their source
or I wouldn’t believe, or speak,
or write of them.
But I don’t ask for understanding,
so much as faith, that the thing I know
I know, is enough in itself,
in the moment its apparent.
And like some faithful witness,
I will try to draw it like I see it,
for isn’t art in truth,
different to each discerning eye.
So it does not matter so much
how you read it,
though the blessing is both of ours
when we meet at some mutual ‘Yes’.
Then for a moment the little truth that’s shared,
surprises in how it facilitates connectedness,
like some sudden mirror
revealing a larger whole.
But as soon as you ask me for a position,
I will tell you I never heard the question.
And that the answer, if its anything,
is only ever one.
One word in the many millions,
one word resounding.
And if you ask me what it is,
I might just say to listen.
That the answer is clear,
as though there were ever a question.
Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry