Big guy, our Newfie, came in to get me up this morning.  It was early but I said give me five.  Which means I need more time.  He left me to take guard outside my room until I said let’s go.  I grabbed a throw since it was dark and cold.  And prepared for time while he had a long drink.

The sky was red and Sailor, I thought ‘red sky in the morning take warning.’  Followed by ‘red sky at night, Sailor’s delight.’  It was a melding for me, a uniting with All That Is.  And whispering to me were the words, ‘Sufficient unto itself, is the day, thereof.’

I am able to hold conference with my constituents easily.  But I would have difficulty explaining how I get there and you would have difficulty believing me, except you have my words in front of you.  I tell you true within the frame of reference that is mine and though criticism comes with my alibiing everyone else,  I have not done so with myself.  I have loved my Earth, unabashedly and am in conference with my Teachers.  (I had previously posted. . .excerpt. . .)

And when we left the city to breathe clean air I marveled as a young girl going to the outdoor privy and stopped at the back door before going up to bed and dipped my heart to blend the night sky to drink of a million stars and wondered how rich could a 12 year old be with the night so private housing so many brothers?  And the air circled my pajama legs and I gave thanks to the clean air and promised to be a caretaker of a place I loved.  I would dip into my bucket of stars and reach for a nugget and it would translate my efforts and keep me fed.

I would teach everyone to take care of our land because it is our home and we live here.    It gives us what we need to live and heals us when we ail and loves us as its children.  It is our mother and we must help her.  And now after a lifetime,  I am hampered by bones forgetting to bend, muscles forgetting to stretch and a heart that cannot forget how I have loved this parcel of a universe so generous with this gift.

How Much Better It Would Be. . .

How much better it would be
for this noble planet
if we cherished her like a lover?

Or loved her as a mother
who adored her child and
wiped the tears away with a soft linen?
Or as a father whose arms surrounding the child
are as steel beams supporting
the frame of the tallest building?

Who would not want these for himself
if he could articulate what would heal
the dichotomy within?

Too few of us around
who love our home so fiercely
we would protect her vital organs.
The sun sometimes is hidden from man
and the moon embarrassed
to see its light dimmed with shame.

When patches of earth split
from the shock of no rain and dust rises
and rolls across open land,
we wish then not to shake dust
from our boots but to greet a sunrise in splendor.

Offer me this, the Earth Mother says,
that you will raise your arms
only to surround an Other in love.
Promise me this, again she says,
that the swords will be laid at the foot
of the evergreens, now and a boot will never
crush an Other’s right to live.

And I will forever cherish your children.

photo by
John Hallissey