Living Tree Poetry

What if justice fell over,
would grace take her place?

How many causes do we back,
how many bones pick bare.

The grudges that we hold,
and turn to every angle,

if held against the light,
what residue would we see  –

but dry bones turned to dust.

What if justice fell over,
would there be less offence taken,

given,
less choosing of sides.

Have we lost our voice
if we can’t raise it above a whisper –

be heard above the din,
the crowd and its followers.

What if everything that wasn’t grace
was laid down?

Perhaps everything is just a further chance
for emptying.

And every place we find ourselves,
another choice to love.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
June 2020