Today there is no shadow.
The blue is a dome of gentle sky.
The green of trees struck by morning light
to gold wicked flames.
Pointing up, keeping straight.
Today there is no shadow of cloud even.
If I could fall standing up, I might
be captured in this stretched out,
filigree thin net of
soft blue blanket.
Or not –
it does not matter.
All that is real right now is how things seem.
And how they seem
is likely better than they are.
But I think that is the point of trees,
and sun, and ever new dawning skies.
And this blessedly cool air.
The sound of neighbours
greeting one another on their morning walks.
That we can imagine new and longed for possibilities.
That my thoughts this morning,
sitting here statue still as the world wakes up,
turn quietly to prayer and trust.
Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry