Friday, 29 May 2015

Let the Night Fall


Let the night fall.

Let it come and rest,
soft as a blanket
over the mistakes of our day.
With its absolving hand,
let it wipe away -
the missteps,
the regrets,
the disappointments.
The offences we've received,
and in our weakness, made.
But which in their injustice
burden,
and relentlessly shake,
our tender frames.

Let the night fall.


Let it come
and restore
all we failed to retain,
all we couldn't hold
in grasping, clinging hands.
Let it bring its deep relief
to broken hearts
and tired limbs,
bruised and sore
though resilient still.
Standing firm,
though buffeted by winds.
Standing steady,
though unexpressed grief threatens.

Let the night fall.

Though so dark,
see the gift it brings.
Renewal,
rehabilitation, mercy,
restorative as the spring.
Spreading life anew
across our barren hearts;
planting seeds
of hope
and redemption.
While we thought
we were all done in,
night comes softly, reminding us
what 'sufficient for the day' means...

Joy comes in the morning.

Ana Lisa de Jong
May 2015



Waiheke Island, Auckland, New Zealand

Friday, 22 May 2015

Light and Dark


Black and white
Light and dark
Pain and pleasure
Night and day

What is one without the other?

Passion requires the boundaries of sanity.
Reality needs the possibilities of imagination.
Feelings need thoughts to give them shape.
Thoughts need feelings to give them depth.

Joy and sorrow
Young and old
Sun and moon
Lost and found

What is life but a dance,
from one foot to another, balancing.
Like the seasons, life needs its ebb and flow.
The solemn reflection after pleasure fleeting,
and the joy that rises continually.

Near and far

Empty and full
Sweet and bitter
Hot and cold

What is light without the dark?

What is depth without height's comparison?
After intimacy comes the necessary withdraw.
From ecstasy's heights we must always fall.
And yet as night draws in we can anticipate the dawn.

Life and death

Heaven and earth
Future and past
Faith and disbelief

Where-ever we are, close or far,

to where we want to be, we know we won't remain there.
Though shifting shadows move to block out the sun,
by its very nature light will keep shining.
And whether we believe it or not,
life, after winter's apparent death, emerges again.

Ana Lisa de Jong
May 2015

Coromandel Peninsula, New Zealand

Tuesday, 19 May 2015

Wings


What does moving on mean?
What do we take with us?
And what do we leave behind?

Is it seeing clearer,
from what has brought us joy and pain?
As the sky is washed clean, by the departing rain.

Do we break the shackles,
that hold us fast in place?
And how do we do that, while cherishing what's been?

How do we move on,
not knowing what lies ahead?
What is the assurance it's better, that it will replace our treasure here?

So we stand pulled in two directions.
Knowing that time, like gravity,
is a law we may begrudge, but cannot escape.

And that what we carry with us
will determine the weight of our load.
So how, how on earth do we give up, what will weigh us down?




We must find a way,
to use the lessons of the past.
To allow the memories to enrich us, as the blood in our veins.

To discard shame for our wrongs,
and welcome forgiveness in.
Knowing that acceptance is the key to moving on.

That while we rail against reality,
we stand with two feet apart.
Hanging in limbo between the future and past.

That the present is all we ever have.
The present and its forward momentum,
takes with us all of our treasure, what we've turned to gain.

So how do we move on?
By recognising the past is necessary.
Colouring the blank canvas ahead, its a backdrop to all that will be.

We don't have to extricate ourselves.
Everything that's been said, and done, right or wrong;
can, if held lightly, give us wings.

Ana Lisa de Jong, May 2015

RNZAF Base Auckland, Whenuapai, New Zealand

Sunday, 10 May 2015

A Mother's Heart

To be a mother
is to sing, to cry, to laugh,
to live
the full breadth
of human emotion.
As arms wide open
and hearts exposed,
our children pull
and dance
on every string.

To be a mother
is to give, to give in,
and to lose.
To deny ourselves
that we might win.
As each gift of self,
each sacrifice given,
inspires the same
in the lives
we're building.

To be a mother
is to remember, to believe,
to not forget,
the dream that birthed in our hearts
at conception.
To remember what we
knew,
without doubt,
they could be,
even before we met them.

To be a mother
is to trust, to not let go,
to not give up.
To allow God's heart
to continue to be reflected in us.
To encourage, to enable,
and above all love.
To love when its easy,
and especially
when its hard.

To love as though all
depended on it.
For it does.
As in God's grand plan
he purposely designed us.
So never underestimate
the importance of the role,
and what we uniquely give.
In the end God knows,
and would remind us:

A mother's love
grows a child.

Ana Lisa de Jong
May 2015