Living Tree Poetry

Water holds memory and shape.
It is absorbing, absolving,
forgiving.

It is like a friend that receives us as we are.
Adjusting to our form,
making space,

but still encompassing us,
with a weight that lifts us up
upon itself.

It is whole apart from us,
but is generous
and accommodating.

Transparent but substantial
in itself, it gives way,
makes allowances.

It is a caress, gentle
for the power it holds back.
A lover that moves in time with us.

Water is a vessel.
As much as it is a liquid poured,
it is a solid weight enveloping.

Water holds our place.
Although it isn’t made obvious,
water retains room for us.

We are held in the memory,
and we are welcomed
back in an embrace expansive,

as though we had not been absent.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
February 2020