When the walls of the house grow in
let sound become a vehicle to transport you.
Open the window
or sit on the porch out of the wind.
Stop praying for the sunshine
or for everyone to always get along.
Start to understand how tears
carve their own river to freedom.
And we more often desire to forgive than hold onto pain,
or the release of her forked tongue.
In the meantime, listen to the birds
and the children on their skateboards and trikes.
See how all the sound is sent up and out.
The quiet walls of the room are now vibrating
with the sound of wheels on stones.
The children are taking over the universe again.
They would laugh at us
and our feeble reasons for defeat, despair.
And the birds sing all the time,
not just when there is a valid reason.
Perhaps singing is their means of finding purpose
for the continuing.
And look too,
here comes the sun.
Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
September 2021
No comments:
Post a Comment