Over a year ago, I received the nudging from Spirit to set aside enough time on Saturday mornings to go out and sit on the edge of the woods behind our house and just be, just listen, just be present to all the life there. And so I do. Every Saturday, as near sunrise as possible, I and my coffee and my journal go out and sit on a bench there at the edge of the woods. Over time, I get to see the seasons change, the animals raise their babies, and I sit in all kinds of weather from the hot steamy days of summer to rainy, cold days of winter and everything in between. Recently, I wrote these words while doing my Saturday morning ritual, a witness to all that showed up to greet me.
Light transforming the night’s remaining shadows into day,
I sit before the council of trees,
Most have entered their deep sleep but not all–Oh Father Pine!
Seeds made and scattered with help of wind and bird,
Holy Earth has received them into herself
Hawk arrives from the heavens perched high overhead.
A message he brings from the divine ones for those who listen
Walk and breathe in your whole body today,
You, touching Mother Earth, breathing Father sky
You, pulsing the very Seas through your veins,
Walk in your whole body and live today
Chorus of birdsong–the Winter one–fills the air–
Wonder even in these darkest of days.
And you, Mr. Snail, I see you! Carry on!
Sometimes in the quietest of moments we hear life at its loudest and most significant ahead become part of our next breath. Thank you sharing this wonder.
Inspiring Bob! Thank you for this example, which is available to us all.
This written sensation defies the boundary between the physical and the forces of the natural world. Especially if you can hold onto wonder as you enter your very physical day. Perhaps it is as Lydia says, ahead becomes part of your next breath.
Beautifully written and beautifully shared.
Thank you, Bob. This reading took me to my new home in Virginia, for directly behind my mountainside house are woods. A sunroom with lots of windows faces the woods and most often, probably, my perch to view the outdoors will be there. Until, possibly, I have verified that a black bear is a rare site