I record God’s faithfulness,
that when asked I might say,
whenever has a prayer gone unanswered,
a night not turned to day by itself,
a spring branch not borne its blossom,
or an autumn tree not divested its green.
Whenever has God not turned
with the seasons on a branch,
or a seed bursting in the earth for us.
Yes, I would show how, like the rings marked on a trunk,
or an earth rounding its sun,
God is ever intent upon our growth.
Ever drawing us as a plant towards the light,
or keeping us in gravities pull,
a celestial body tracing its orbit.
Yes, I record God’s faithfulness
so that when asked I can say,
whenever have prayers, voiceless or not,
not found a fertile place in God’s earth to fall,
to be buried until the spring
of their fruition.
God is ever faithful as the sun, the source of light and life.
Or as sap in the central branch of the vine,
that we might flourish
as burgeoning grapes upon its stem.
Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry