Each of us have a space here.
One not encroached upon,
where the sun shines
and the stars rise just for us.
The invisible are seen in this space,
their branches outspread,
that the light is not blocked from shining
and there is room for full existence.
Space here to claim,
and settle in, planted,
worthy of the sun
and the rains.
Yes, when we reach out, we need space to turn.
That is called belonging.
Space to speak
and ears that incline with love.
There is put in us at birth,
a need to be grounded
to fill our place.
One where we are seen,
not for the garden, but
the way our own limbs are defined
against the light of heaven.
Like the latticework of trees,
under which is shelter and shade,
and someone who thanks us for the grace we bring
Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
2 thoughts on “A Poem: Being”
This has such a double meaning for me now as people are keeping their “space” from each other — crossing the street when I am walking the dog. I choose to see it this week with you as blessing, not fear.
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Ah yes, isn’t it wonderful how we write poems sometimes that make so much sense later on. I am glad that people are keeping their distance from you and keeping you safe. Stay safe in that space around you xx