A Poem: Seeds

Can we truly save anyone?

We might only lose ourselves
in the trying.

Any saving that asks for the shedding
of ourselves –

in small pieces
to shore up another –

is not salvation, so much
as a sad slow fading of light

at the day’s conclusion.

Whereas love, love given,

sometimes in no measurable means
other than the ache

of grief and longing,

or prayerful intent,
or a posture of compassion –

this love is like a seed,
that even when we’ve turned around,

is working quietly
underground,

watered by the heavens.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
May 2021


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