Lack can be a good thing.
Enough in itself
when we focus on the plentiful,
the gifts still amongst us.
Do we not remember
how the fullness of bread
forms itself from yeast
and warmth
and the soft kneading hands
of love’s attentiveness.
Might we,
in our lack
measure what we have,
count the things remaining
here at our disposal.
The stuff at hand
to give yet
in ways we hadn’t imagined
or considered in our plenty.
Yes, our palms might sweep across
an emptying shelf
find an egg, flour, rice
basics to make nourishment
and then our hands
might find feet
to lace in shoes
in which to walk
with sole intent
to our neighbour’s door.
Yes, did we ever think
the gifts we are given
were to keep.
Perhaps this is the rainy day
for which we have been hoarding our treasures.
What indeed happens to the
things we don’t forfeit.
I know there is much I’ve thrown out
from too much excess
and a spare shelf
might instead
clear a path for miracles.
________________________________
Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
March 2020
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