So we are each made of molecules
that danced a certain way to fuse together,
become something solid.
This I know, that we are not dice that fall
in a random pattern,
but birds of a feather that find one another,
sometimes even fly in tandem.
Magic wears a veil
behind which is occurring a string of things
much more than happenstance.
Though wonder is at times subtle and shy,
she can surprise with a clarity
as bright as lights stringed from tree to tree –
revealing the ever melding,
ever joining patterns
that make up for each of us
the extraordinary, unrepeatable gift
Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry