A Poem: Forever is Another Room

Forever is another room.
It is behind the garden’s hedge,
too thick, too high to surmount.

It is behind the memory,
the way it teases us in dreams
to see further than the eye.

But, more than a storehouse for our histories,
or wellspring of our tomorrows,
it is a road

with no end or beginning
that we each find ourselves travelling upon,
even here, even now.

The boundlessness of our soul
a clue –

that this life, this garden hedge,
bed, cup, hands we each hold,
will all fall away

as we carry on as pilgrims on a journey.

Our forever room, large
as a prairie, wide with its roof of sky,
and distant hills, paths into the blue.

Our forever room, small
as a drop of dew teetering on the edge,
in which we are enclosed,

the knowledge beyond, too great for fathoming.

And yet, accompanied,
we are not beggars on the path,
but pilgrims with a staff, a light, a bed

at the end of each long day –
and company in the remembering,
in reunion, the recognition in waiting faces –

and the eternal light,
the embrace in which we’re held.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
December 31, 2020

4 thoughts on “A Poem: Forever is Another Room

  1. Forever is another room
    that cancer bids me know,
    but the vision of my doom
    is not where I would go,
    for ake ake kia kaha
    has been my watchword through the years
    of which the tumours’ smoke and lava
    have made a vale of tears.
    Do I want to stop and rest?
    I’d be false to deny
    that this aching daily test
    is one from which I’d fly
    were it not for honour’s spur
    that keeps me from Forever’s door.


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