‘Again’, who can tire of such certainties.
Does anyone tire of a sun that makes the days,
the years.
Does anyone tire of fresh eyes after rest,
bodies that have cause to rise.
Does anyone tire of hesitant hope,
gaining traction at dawn’s new light.
Is anyone though, not surprised.
I know I am always surprised by the sun,
as though I were taken unawares.
Although yesterday it bared its head,
and a lifetime before that.
Perhaps, it’s just that we consider ‘luck’ a measured
portion, to slowly peter out.
When in fact,
as the sun demonstrates day after shining day,
we are never not worthy of it,
or rather
the blessings that would pour themselves out
as paint on a blank canvas.
Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
November 2020