We need beauty to survive,
that we drink her in mouthfuls.
Rising up out of the mist,
resilient as the sun.
Not one day does she say,
today I will lie in,
as today the world
does not need me.
No, her duty of making beauty
the sacred art it is,
is her life’s work,
spanning millenniums.
She, so centered
on each of us
as though she were our personal
attendant,
our undeserved returning
blessing.
The Divine Voiceless One
who speaks her ancient blessing
on all of us who cross her path.
Who, living by the name of God
gives us all
reason for being.
Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
June 2021
Living Tree Poetry 