A Poem: Swaying

Did you want to be swayed
by the wind,
by the external things.

Do you want to know how everything
that is solid runs underneath,
and through.

Do you want your thoughts
to lift you up or down,
to live rudderless.

Do you want to give credence
to impressions that come and go,
like mist before the breaking light.

Do you want to believe,
believe in how what can be bent
can never be broken.

Do you want to know how,
despite appearance,
all that matters is solid and substantial.

The human spirit,
a triple woven rope, flexible,
made of enduring stuff.

Like the heart that can be bruised
and then renewed
as new skin growing.

The tree that broke
its branch at the wind’s behest
is still ripe with sap and strength.

So let go of the thoughts
that would determine doom,
the worries based on lack and fear.

Not everything we think is true
is real,
and not everything we fear is imminent.

And the things that in the mist
appear to take on
fantastic shapes,

we’re to let them remain
the insubstantial things they really are,
and to drift away

with the coming light.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
October 2019

‘You speak to the storm, and the waves die down’.
Brock Human, Are you Listening


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