A Poem: Wings

How I pray to let things go.
Hold my hands tight

so they do not move,
fix things of their own accord.

How I pray to let things be.
Restrict my hands from interference,

resist the need to cast an influence
upon things that do not need it.

How I pray to receive restraint
in balance with a loving attention,

knowing the gift of quiet knowledge
needs its own keen discernment.

To dignify another’s being
is to honour more often their silent wisdom.

Each of us a still small kingdom
intent upon its preservation.

Just as a chrysalis in the work of creating
protects a quiet enfolded treasure,

so must we with steps considered
respect the boundaries of each other.

Where beyond the spheres we live in common
within the hush of solitude,

are vein lined wings flexed and beating
the pulse of which will keep us airborne.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
September 2021

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