A Poem: At the Heart

Everything at its heart is a circle.
Everything made to join at the bend,
to reach closure.
Everything is a circle,
that we ride upon the motion.
What does tomorrow bring?
We just begin, like a stone rolling.
And where does it end?
We need not fear dissolving,
for even soap bubbles are circles.
Popping and landing splash in the sink
to form more bubbles.
There is no end to the rolling movement
of the world and its galaxies;
the seasons. And our stories.
Each of us a Chapter One,
a Chapter 10, at the same time.
And as we welcome others in,
we love the continuance in the other.
How we recognise ourselves,
though we might be exiting left.
Someone with our eyes and smile
holds the baton.
Oh, that everything is spiralling
is the most comforting truth in the universe.
Not out of control as wool unravelling,
but gaining strength
as solar winds, or tidal flows.
I am on the journey, as are you.
We turn to face each other,
and our embrace forms a ring
we’re held within
Anyone who sees time as linear,
or space as pattern-less,
has not closed their eyes to feel
the circling earth,
or wondered at the movements of the sun.
Or fallen irreversibly in love,
and not believed it a gift
to last forever.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
April 2022