A Poem: Behind

There is nothing but joy underneath,
behind.

It is why my plants grow
knee deep in soil.
It is why the rays of sun
through a break in the clouds
wind us,

cause us to stop still
perceiving Heaven.

It is when we see the meaning
beneath,
through a slight tilt of perspective,
like the earth achieves every day,
opening passages,
that joy comes.

Trickling, or flooding,
it hardly matters,
that joy is predominant
is the deciding factor
in its revelation.

Although we already knew that
somewhere in our inner beings.

Joy being,
the mirror of a heart
at home in itself,
a soul anchored.

We are sometimes given
amnesia,
whether to feel joy
or to remember it,
I’m not sure.

Joy is the light that
strikes grief asunder.
The sustenance of life,
its renewing force.

And we are sometimes given
to visions,
and a clarity of perception
to match the day’s light,
that reveals joy
as conqueror amongst the travail.

How like, when it has rained
and the clouds dissipate,
and suddenly the garden,
the river, the sky,
is freshly cleansed —

and it’s not just us
with a new perception,
it’s the old earth marrying
the new heaven,
as though they had ever
been separate.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
November 2022