Early Winter Gratitude

 

Earth Offerings

 

In the spirit of Thanks-Giving, let’s turn toward the living earth and make offerings of gratitude.  A simple leaf, a seashell, a stone are sacred gifts we return to the Giver of all Life.  Our ancient ancestors gave honor and praise to the immanent deity.  Our original foundation is not separate from the earth, not a transcendent spirit removed from a mundane and fallen earth.  Rather spirit is present, permeating the animate and breathing being we call Gaia.  A nature altar can be as simple as a few late autumn leaves,  a unique stone, berries ripening on woodland vines. Every child knows this instinctively, stops to bend and touch, smell, ….to participate in relationship with an ant or a fallen leaf. 

 

We can return to this state of innocence; our children can lead the way.  Go outdoors into the park or woods.  Go slowly. Open into a soft gaze.  Reach out. Listen, touch, smell, breathe.  Allow wholeness to flow in. This can heal the past and shape the future..  Make an offering of our own heart and the beauty we see around us

 

Generations

 

bare winter branches

bow to cold winds

chimes chant prayers

 

summer’s hydrangea stalks

rattle sun-drenched thoughts

that skitter past frozen ferns

 

cardinals call from

dogwood’s silver branches

etched into winter’s brocade

 

poplar and spicebush

hickory and beech

employ mycelial spinners who

 

thread by thread

weave arboreal

connective tissue

 

make a living membrane

between pine and oak

red maple and magnolia

 

bring nutrition

give warning

nurse illness

 

interspecies collaboration,

or can we finally see

it is love.

 

My feet walk and sing,

I bow to

Gaian  ancestors

 

 who arise through

my soles

enter into human veins

 

which are not unlike

those of

sugar maple leaves

 

alluvial  spirits reweave

my connective tissue

make a living plasma

 

mend places

torn by the past

and weave as well

toward the future

 

interspecies collaboration,

or can I finally say

this is love.

 

 

From my book A Litany of Wild Graces: Meditation on Sacred Ecology

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