Living Tree Poetry

She, in the novel I am reading,
is right—
how we must pray,
for it edges our days.

And we must believe,
as ones who in the light of day
can’t see the stars
but know that they are there.

And hold the sacred texts
open on our laps,
that the seeds might fall out,
find fertile soil.

Kneel even, that our tears
might reach the ground,
as though it were the dust
upon Jesus’s feet.

And sit and close our eyes
and ponder everything in our hearts
as Mary did,
in awe of how the Holy One

within us makes a home.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
June 2021