I am combing the air for scraps of things
I’m not ready to put down.
Is restless the right word for dreams unrealised?
Or needs unspoken
for there being no language adequate,
eloquent enough
to enable the expression.
I know I have one foot here,
the other searching,
like toes underwater
feeling for shells.
I have one mind here,
one heart.
But there is another part of me
embodied,
with wings.
By the stream, the hill,
under the stars.
What she’s always wanted
I do not know.
Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
September 2020
