A Poem: After the Rains

After the rains the sun comes,
after the night is dawn.
After labour is rest,
after the climb is the view.

After,
everything comes after.
It’s as though after is a gate,
a fence behind which blessing is stored.

But before,
before is a long blank space.
A desert or a wilderness,
a necessary ascent.

Before is a question mark,
or an aching absence,
it’s the fresh mark of mistakes,
the sweat of toil.

But after is a storm hushed,
a mother’s soft lullaby.
The hands of nurses at our beds,
in the still pre-dawn dark.

After is a long recovery,
an outgoing breath and inhale,
an awakening to knowledge,
a forgiveness and a grace.

After is a healing,
with an emphasis on time.
We have redeemed now the year’s ended,
and have time now for everything.

And after is the release,
when the worked muscles rest.
The moment when the open ‘Why’
becomes an ‘O’ of understanding.

Or if not, becomes something
we can accept.
And after is the view,
how it astounds in its expansiveness.

And we think how grown the world is now,
how green, after the rain’s end.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
January 2020


2 thoughts on “A Poem: After the Rains

  1. I’m beginning to like the sound of “after” as a prelude to healing, rest and recovery. May it be so for the broken and sick, the wounded and weary, those of us who still inhabit the in-between space after “before” but before “after.” Thank you for this beautiful offering, Ana Lisa. I hope and pray you and your loved ones are doing well. Blessings and love. xo 💜

    Like

  2. I look out at the rain coming softly down … after this there will be sunshine. After the coronavirus, what? The children who live through this will never be the same.

    Like

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