A Poem: Spinning

I am going spinning round the room.

And you are at my shirt tails,
reaching out.

Repeating the refrain to rest.
Rest, rest,

as I see in all my spinning
what is achieved.

Nothing but a whirlwind
at my feet.

That permission becomes a
gift to give myself.

As you remove the guilt
from all my strivings.

Show me how we rest
for strength to renew.

Walking less in haste
than in step with you.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
August 2021

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