I don’t know,
I think I must follow the sky.
Is there a reason the trees point upwards,
and the ocean rolls in blue waves
mimicking the clouds?
Perhaps when everything seems impossible
and circumstances restrict,
the sky,
shining there
as a parable put in front of us,
is the very promise we need guaranteed.
Our freedoms assured
in the way she says ‘look at me’,
and in how she can’t be corralled.
The way she is still there when we turn around,
that we can’t not be covered,
as well as inspired.
Even when we spin until we’re dizzy,
and lie out spread-eagled on the grass,
she is there
whipping out her blankets for
catching falls.
Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
February 2021
Living Tree Poetry 