No-one is wholly blind.
We each carry some of the light.
To see we might climb beyond the cloud line
to where the sun sets and rises in heavenly splendour.
On the ground, where we live for much of our lives,
our view is limited to the next rise, the turn in the road,
So let us walk in humility.
The one who sees our divisions as rivers,
as great dividing separate channels,
is not political.
At least not beyond where he drew a clear line in the sand –
this love in which each law is contained.
Is that why love is so often called a bridge?
Might that be restoration?
Hearts inclined towards one another.
What if we waded deep in
not weapons of words and condemnation?
“Anyone not for me is against me.'”
Perhaps to see further
is to turn our lights upon ourselves,
our own hearts inclined sometimes to corners blind.
Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry