Wednesday, 8 June 2016


Blenheim, Marlborough, New Zealand

For a moment,

I gaze at you.
And its as though
the curtains of heaven are pulled aside
to let you through.
As though you bend
down to kiss my upheld brow.
So briefly, that I


struggle to contain your presence,
and frame your memory.
And must keep searching,
all the length
of my days and nights,
for glimpses of you,
alive again,

in my sight.

While I know you are there
in reality,
its just reality has a way
of colouring things grey.
As we live out our existence
in the rush of tomorrows expectations
and today’s claims,

on our time.

But the light
still seeks me out,
rays of silver,
tracing patterns on the floor;
and if I take a moment
and turn and really open my eyes,
I see you, seeing me. 

Living Light.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
June 2016


Blenheim, Marlborough, New Zealand

Looks deceive, dead seed pods
and limbs bereft of leaves.
Grey leaden sky,
and chilling winter breeze.

We hunker down,
layered like the earth beneath.
Wondering what still lives,
what might still breathe.

But looks, they deceive.
For under the pile of cast-off broken leaves,
as quiet as the tomb,
the earth holds its breath.

And waits.  Just as we awake,
breathe and stretch towards the light,
so the earth waits,
still, and expectant of life.

Yes looks deceive,
for underneath, stirring and lengthening,
are seeds, growing to bursting;
awaiting the turning seasons.

We too are mistaken,
to believe nothing is happening;
brittle hearts covered,
in last year’s debris and bracken.

Wondering how renewal and restoration,
can appear a possibility,
when all is sodden?
But lo behold, life is coming.

Like sun on snow,
our hearts begin thawing.
Like light on the hills,
Spring ascends the horizon.

Not one moment too soon, nor too late,
in arriving.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
June 2016

The Nightwatchman

Piha Beach, Auckland, New Zealand

I will wait, I will wait up with you.
I will wait until
the soil is dry,
of the tears that have fallen,
until the sun crests the hill
and the new day is dawning.

I will sit with you in the garden.
If you are awake, I will be too.
I will not slumber while there is
hunger in your soul,
I will stay while 
the night lingers still.

I will keep you company
when the loneliness bears you far
from the presence of others
who cannot follow.
Who cannot know the things
that keep you up at night.

Those things which you feel alone.

But for me.  But for me, who comprehends.
Who understands.
What it is to sit and to grieve,
without the comforts of a friend.
To feel the shadows bearing down
on a cold and barren ground.

Yes, I am the one who has been there before,
the dark night of the soul.
And because of this,
you know that only love for you
led me to the garden’s floor.
And its love for you that moves me still.

So I will wait, I will wait up with you now.
I will wait until
the fear subsides, and
the light that seeks you out,
starts dawning in your heart.
Yes I will wait with you in the dark and lonely night.

And you will rise with me in the light. 

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
April 2016

Seal Me

Marlborough Sounds, New Zealand

Seal me in your heart.
Seal me in your heart oh
lover of my soul. 

Prise me open to you,
and to you alone,
because your love for me
is to the death,
and your jealousy,
strong as fire.

My only answer
to such a love
is to fall upon my knees.
Captivated by a love
that will not let me go,
pledged fast to me.

And all that you ask,
in return,
is that you are my one desire.
Above all, who may draw me
from your feet,
above all the world’s allure.

Oh seal me fast,
tied to your side,
for I’m inclined to wander.
Though I know there’s no-one
who can touch the spirit,
beyond heart and soul.

But for you.
But for you, my God.
My love, my desire, my all.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
May 2016


There is something I’ve been trying to grasp.
A truth you would have me understand.
From these lessons, with no explanation,
I seek reasons for their being.
And think, there must be a plan,
or else, chaos.

And that is not how you work,
although we know its from inside out.
And we know you make us fools,
despite our thinking we are right,
and you use us then, as broken tools,
meant to confound the wise.

Yes, I’m learning that in your upside-down world,
weak does not mean defective.
Nor does cracked mean I’m far from whole,
but simply that I haven’t shattered;
and I’m actually stronger in my walk with you,
than I truly knew.

Yes, I read today that doubt is
not faith’s opposite, as I thought,
rather it’s an element of our journey to belief,
and precedes the faith that follows it.
If that is true, then I can trust my fears to you,
though all may appear, as lost.

And love, love is made stronger still,
for the strain on its roots. 
And the desert, beyond all appearances,
can bloom as a rose, and springs burst forth
where it appeared there were no water, before.
And dry bones can be revived.

Yes, this is the something I have been trying to grasp.
In the chapel, upon the floor,
and in bed, with the width of miles, between opposing views,
I found you whisper it to me, loud and clear.
It’s just I couldn’t at first believe what you said,
that we could be ‘broken and still whole’.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
March 2016

Piha Beach, Waitakere, Auckland, New Zealand