Living Tree Poetry

I take my garden seat,
and it’s as though the conductor
opens the score just for me.

Or perhaps,
it’s that I’ve just broached
the moment unawares,

and the bees and the tui’s,
the passing gull against the blue,
see me but as colour in a collage,

or a pattern in a landscape,
or the backing of a symphony,
if I were bold.

Although, more likely
I stand out
as something ill-fit,

but still blessed to steal a position
on the side-lines of a moment
dropped from heaven,

or rather
an ever present unfolding
when seen for what it is,

this common-place,
with wonder mixed.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
September 2019