Writing

  • Ascension

    Ana Lisa de Jong 30 May 2019

    Ascension

    Keep going, don’t give up”, I read.

    Yet keeping going today
    looks something like,
    closing and opening my eyes,
    and turning over to my other side
    in bed.

    Progress is sometimes measured
    in the smallest increments.

    My not giving up today
    was perhaps seen
    in the leap of my heart
    at the tui and fantail on the branches
    beyond my window’s ledge.

    Sometimes progress is measured by the reach of our vision,
    beyond the place we now rest.
     

    Stop, go.
    Who is asking that we maintain our pace?
    To rest is to regain the strength to rise.
    Before we release a breath,
    we must breathe in the oxygen we need.

    Yes, our hearts,
    they beat to the measure of our supplies.
     

    So sometimes not giving up
    looks like curling into a cocoon,
    and drawing the blankets in tight.
    We might need to tend
    and mend ourselves,

    as the cat that comes in from the night,
    licks at its wounds.
     

    The shelter of the cocoon
    provides the supports that aid our healing.
    Before we ascend,
    we must kneel and bend
    to get the uplift desired.
     

    No, we don’t give up,
    and keep, however slowly, making ground.

    But its not clear cut.

    Sometimes ascending looks a lot
    like slowing down.

    ©Ana Lisa de Jong
    Living Tree Poetry
    Ascension Day 2017
    Image Ascension, Chris Koelle, by Faith, online magazine of the Presbyterian Church in America 

    "Begin again. Begin anywhere." – Anam Cara Ministries