I’m going out
and I won’t be home until I’m happier

Less hungry for want of
what I do not know

I hope to find it by the river
or on some bend somewhere on my walk.

I don’t know,
but I will be looking

for the unexpected thing
looking back.

Knowing that
the treasures we collect

are seldom brought home
in sandy pockets.

A note caught in the wind
or leaf or flower bud unfolding

is best left where discovered.

But I, myself,
I can come back

a little higher and wider
for what I’ve found.

A little heart warmed,
or soul-stirred

that my want
may settle down.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
January 2019