‘I recognise you’,
we say to the ache that makes itself known.
Though each day you wear a different disguise
you still feel the same.
You settle into the same thin space
between our rib-bones and our hearts.
Where you remind the arms of their powerless to hold anything,
the heart of its incapacity for control.
And when we hear of a friend’s sudden grief,
we ask you, ache, to make room,
that we might come alongside you,
take your hand and hers,
feel the common bond of unity sorrow invokes,
the empathy that loss carves in us each
to make a larger space for love.
Yes, I recognise you, my frequent guest.
How you arrive so quietly,
that it’s not until I feel the knot tight in my chest,
the fruitless flutter of my hands,
that I know you come again
with the eternal question,
‘What will I concede to you today?’
Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
November 2021
The clear bead at the center
changes everything.
There are
no edges to my loving now.
You’ve heard it said there’s
a window that opens from one
mind to another,
but if there’s no wall,
there’s no need for
fitting the window, or the latch.
~ Rumi
Living Tree Poetry 