~ Thoughts while listening to Thomas Merton
Underneath, trust for seeds.
Under the rustle of the forest mulch
and last year's life, the dark earth holds its beating heart.
Its lungs that breathe consistently
unheeding surface stresses, following the earth's natural rhythms.
Trust too in the seeds in others.
Under the baggage of accumulated griefs, hopes dashed, insecurities,
is the pulse of life, prodding, pushing.
Seeking outlets for new fresh growth.
Trust too in the rhythms of the universe.
The pull of the moon upon the oceans.
All of nature of which we are a part
demonstrates to us the instinct for life's continuance,
against the odds,
and because of them.
And know too
that we are free in the flowing streams of life.
Sometimes what holds us stationary
are just things we're resistant to surrendering.
Reeds we grasp at as we pass,
unaware of the flourishing growth around each river's bends.
So, know your place in everything,
that you do not need to fight to keep.
The dance master is always holding out his hands,
making us room upon the dance floor.
It is not survival of the fittest,
so much as survival of the whole.
And the whole depends on our roles within it,
that when we fall someone will replace us.
Not through substitution,
but such as a forest sparks from leaf to leaf in one large fire.
Yes, underneath are the seeds of continuance.
That when fear strikes we take our garden forks,
dig for confirmation of life's returning,
know our places into perpetuity.
Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
October 2021
'I am coming to the conclusion that my highest ambition is to be what I already am.'
~ Thomas Merton
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