A Poem: The Vine

God is a God who waitswith all things new. The vine soaks in the morning sun.The sap stirs and runs.We are here attached.The one who was promisedhas come, has not left. It is we who feel a quickening,to an ever giving love.We feel the sun,our blood, our skin singsin the life in which we live,connected. … More A Poem: The Vine

A Poem: Extended

The grass is wet underfoot,the showers passed. The sun slants through the trees,falls in sheetsupon the field. The soul is something like a blade of grassextended straight,looking up. It moves to the wind,lies down underfoot,is on occasion, cut, then grows again,vigorous. Oh to live like grass,surrendered, evergreen in light and dark. Ana Lisa de JongLiving … More A Poem: Extended

A Poem: For my Body

For my bodyI would steparound in a thousand circles like the sun setsor the moon orbitsthe earth who is in lovewith whom? For my bodyI would followthe way the light hits the upperside of leavesthe trunkthe grass spread who is desiringwhom? For my bodyI would singlow trill highthe way the birdssing their morning chorus who … More A Poem: For my Body

A Poem: Watching for the Morning

I am a watchperson for the morning. Up there,in the wind’s domainthe clouds move as passing ships,their grey giving way to silver blue,to white,at the touch of sun. What seems ominousfrom a distancemeets the lightand changes hue,becomes transparent,is all of a sudden overcome. Revealed assuch things as they have always been,although we,with the light behind … More A Poem: Watching for the Morning

A Poem: Blooming

I want to be like the flower,rooted. Who has seen a flowerthat has fought its bloom, has wished itselfnot to grow. Who has seen a flowerthat has not had everything come to it, though it has stayed rootedin place. Has not seen the wind,the sun, all the seasonsvisit in turn. Yes, I want to be … More A Poem: Blooming

A Poem: Can We

Can we do this, can we take off our shoesin the presence of another, can we feel our bare feetwalk the imprint of their steps. Can we feel their experiencering through our tendons, tinge our blood. Can we touch the holythrough each other. Can we do this, can we removethe calluses from our palms, rub … More A Poem: Can We

A Poem: Anointing

Tears, running sapfrom the tree’s trunk, poured milkfrom the heart’s overflow. Sweat, for the reach of our armsbeyond their stretch. A wet stream followedto the soul’s interior, eyes cleansedto perceive its depths. The wound’s seepingto aid in its healing, rain falling to soaka parched, shriveled earth. Did we know, in our griefs,how the healing of … More A Poem: Anointing