Our bubble, so fragile
sometimes it feels the dark
has seeped through the walls,
though our lights shine bright.
Our bubble, like the soap suds
rinsed from our plates.
So transparent,
so quickly dissolved.
And our bubble, fine
and as easily breached
as muslin cloth strains
juice from fruit.
Yes, we exist in a bubble now hanging
in space.
With faith and love the hope
binding the whole.
These bubbles within bubbles.
That tonight my beloved’s hearts
are wrapped up tight in mine.
If there is a breach
let it first break me.
Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
September 2021
Living Tree Poetry 
Yes, I understand that sentiment.
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Yes, I can imagine you would, thank you my friend.
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