Dear friends,
Happy Solstice! I hope you find time today (and everyday) to interact with the natural world. In the quiet moments the land will sing to you, heal your deepest sorrows, and inspire you. Most days, I receive her with a deep inhale and then offer my gratitude with an emptying exhale. Early this morning, I was inspired to slow down and create a simple ceremony with the living beings around me. The poem I offer here is a simple translation of all that occurred in the making.
Summer Solstice
The dried and braided spiny rush
acts like the frame of a canvas.
This hoop of potential signifies
a new day and another opportunity
to be grateful for my beloved sanctuary.
I look to the garden for inspiration.
Who calls to me to join in this sacred
offering to the elements, ancestors,
plant and animal kin? I ask permission
and a small and colorful crew agrees to
help in the making:
narrow sword fern
golden dew drop
feverfew
calendula
I sit on the Earth and observe. Robins
fight mid-flight and chase each other
across the vegetable beds and into
a hedge of thick honeysuckle vines.
Crow is quiet for once. I am observed in turn.
Who sits with me in this circle?
Grandmother white sage
Grandfather Huachuma cactus
yellow daylily
Mexican tarragon
The wet and overcast morning
moves through me like a slow animal and
a gentle reminder to honor that which might
be hidden in this moment before the sun's
intense rays bring us the longest day of light.
Comments