Living Tree Poetry

Today I walk empty,
nothing to spend,
my kete has a hole needing weaving.

But the gathering,
the gathering is like a harvest never-ending
of all the things I cannot keep.

And so they must be given back,
though I have nothing in my bag,
no coin to spend or thing to barter.

But I can give,
can say, ‘here, see this piece of bark,
dropped on the garden’s floor’

‘Would you like it to remind you
of the forever things,
how what falls is covered by what grows.’

‘Like grace.’

And ‘here,
here is the hydrangea’s flower,
drooping now for lack of water,

but tomorrow it will straighten
at the touch of rain.
Like we do, when it is we feel our driest

and then catch
sight of something,
like a garden dripping wet.’

And, ‘here’,
here is the sun,
see how it comes around in a million different ways.

That we might take a snapshot
and think it recorded forever,
and tomorrow it will appear as something else.’

Yes, today I walk with empty pockets.
And stop at each quiet sight
for the re-fuelling.

And if I wonder sometimes
what it is that I have to give,
I only pause and look at everything.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
December 2019