Up here is to feel akin to the sky,
and water is a glass to look through.
Up here the sand lies as an arc of flesh outstretched,
and the ocean is a gentle hand.
Up here, on a scale large,
we know ourselves as outgoing breath
from the mouths of earth and heaven.
We exist between this dance of love,
eons long.
The birds dash, dive and dip,
held aloft on currents unseen.
The hill’s lift, undulating as flesh responsive,
or dough rising in the sun’s heat.
Yes, up here we have a glimpse long,
unfolding.
And somehow, we see ourselves now,
the offspring of a love continuing.
Containers of both earth and heaven.
Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
Langs Beach, New Zealand
Jan 2020