I know beauty by how she loved me,
joy by how she hollowed out a place to plant herself,
that when I was bereft of her,
her seeds had shed
to grow another day in me.
I know tenderness by how I was loved,
peace by how the ache in my heart becomes
a chest of remembrance,
from which I pull out hope in many colours,
wearing memories as vivid scarves.
And I know comfort by how I loved,
courage by how the presence of everyone lost,
runs through me as sap in the spring tree
causing an avalanche of blossoming,
beckoning the birds.
Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry