Thursday, 31 December 2015

A New Year


The new year comes to us,
ready yet or not.
While we may prefer to burrow deep
into the old.

The new year comes,
with untold stories to unfold.
And dreams that might bear fruit,
if we’re bold.

To open the door
to infinite possibility.
To recall
what a blank canvas can reveal.

What a pen, that meets an empty page,
can unveil.
What a life fully assured of its future,
can rightly claim.

Gold.
Like the sun rising, the new year comes.
Reminding us,
that life renews itself, like all things.

The old is gone,
until there is no ground upon which to hide.
And we burrow out like cicadas into the light.

And sing with newly opened eyes.


Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
1 January 2016


Friday, 18 December 2015

Loved


Loved I am.
By a man.
Who knows me.
From inside out,
not outside in.
Who understands.

Loved.
And never alone.
Though I may believe I am.
Until in the stillness
I recall, my heart’s
held in his hands.

I could not be alone,
if I tried.
If I had wanted to live
independently of Him;
He would draw me yet
to respond to Him

With a lover’s relentless
pursuit.
Loved and cherished
beyond measure.
Held
above all comparison.

And what could I do to be unworthy,
of such love?
Nothing.
Safety, security.
In the knowledge of
His tender presence within.

Yes loved, I am.
By a man.
Who knows me.
From inside out,
not outside in.
Who fills me as others cannot.

And whose every touch
is kind.



Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
December 2015


"God's touch in our lives is kind ... Romans 2:4 says that it's God's KINDNESS — not his power or justice — that leads us to repentance. ... And because of this kindness, we want to be closer to him." — Amy Nappa


East Coast Bays, Auckland, New Zealand (Rangitoto Island in distance)