A Poem: Somewhere

There is always something to do,
somewhere to go,
someone to be.

Then there is here,
where we are fully ourselves,
fully present,
fully attentive in our being.

There is something about
always doing, always going
always presenting someone.

It’s as though they are the clothes
we wear,
the face we cover,
the space we put between

who we are truly,
and who it is we imagine
that we should be,
could be.

There is nothing wrong in dreaming,
But sometimes,
there needs to be here,

where we let go
the pressure,
subside as softening limbs
under the sun,

and sense ourselves
both emptying and filling,
know ourselves as known,
perceive ourselves stilled,

intimately attended to,
in this self-made home we’re received.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
September 2020

2 thoughts on “A Poem: Somewhere

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