Tuesday, 23 February 2016

Self-Compassion

Should we not give ourselves,
that which we would not fail
to feel for another?
Compassion. 
Understanding.
Willingness to suffer,
alongside.

So sit with your sorrowing self.
Hold your own shaking hand.
Feel the strength that you
can impart, from one palm
to the other.
Lift yourself,
strong again.

We were all born
sensitive, and vulnerable.
Though we may profess
self-assurance,
we still need the gift of
of a non-judgemental self,
to serve as our sturdy backbone.

So let yourself be honest.
Sit in the midst of pain.
Listen as you might to a friend
to what your heart
is not saying;
but might, if it had the courage,
to follow its unravelling.

You are Strong.
Though born in weakness,
and dependence,
your will to survive
whatever you were thrown,
was ingrained.
You are still the same.

Though we may feel alone,
in our deepest selves,
we need not be there unassisted;
and without the grace:
which self-compassion,
in its hope and love,
will always give us.

So trust yourself.
Encourage the foot which
stumbles behind.
Your sensitive heart in
its softness, and strength,
is the re-builder,
of all that is broken.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
February 2016



Karikari Peninsula, Northland, New Zealand


Friday, 5 February 2016

Mosaics


We are mosaics, you and I.
Each part designed.
Each piece patterned and coloured,
to blend in to the pieces beside.

We are mosaics, you and I.
All our strengths and flaws,
our light and our shade,
intricately designed.

To make a beautiful, perfect whole.

No we are not meant to hide,
those parts of which we’re shy.
Or which we cannot perceive,
could serve any purpose at all.

For we cannot see the image of ourselves,
which others see revealed.
Yet God has made of us a storybook,
for those around us to read.

Our true purpose, to be real.

Yes, we are mosaics, you and I,
designed to hang in the light.
When all the colours and the patterns merge,
the picture meant is evident.

Mosaics, you and I.
Our beauty not easily defined, by this world.
As each person see in us something different,
for which God has given them eyes.


Our gift, simply to be ourselves,
and reflect the artist’s design.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
January 2016

Okura River, Auckland, New Zealand

Thursday, 4 February 2016

Come


Come home to yourself.
Home is sand under your feet.
And sun glinting silver on the sea.
Home is the waves and the birds.
Warmth on your skin.
The solitude that brings you home,
to your soul.
Forgo the crowd, which leaves you lonely.
And come away for a while.

Come back to yourself.
Survey the view.
And you’ll remember,
that you’ve never been away.
Just been wearing something ill-fitting,
waiting for the day you can disrobe.
And run barefoot.
Dishevelled, wind in your hair,
but free.

Come take a walk.
To the hill where the sky is large.
See the evening spread like a curtain across the day.
And feel yourself small, but wide.
If you still yourself you will hear,
your heart beat along with the earth’s.
And you will know yourself a part of the whole.
No separation at all.
A particle of life.

Which can seem lonely, unless you recall that,
your footprints leave a mark on the sand.
You make a track where you choose to walk.
Every action has a reaction.
No, you are not swallowed up
by the majesty of this breath-taking earth.
You share its beauty,
because of your living, breathing
part in it.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
January 2016
Matai Bay, Karikari Peninsula, Northland