A Poem: Dancing

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,
flock together,
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
called living.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
April 2021

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