Love And Gratitude To The Natural World

The Earth is struggling under climate change, geo-engineering, fracking, genetic modification; her natural ways ignored. She is straight jacketed, kept in a farrowing crate when she gives birth, dug up for her hidden riches, poisoned by pesticides and herbicides. But….at the time of writing, here, in the corner of Gloucestershire where I live, there is such an extraordinary abundance of plant life: the singing blue of meadow cranesbill, swaying heads of pale purple scabious, honeysuckle, meadowsweet. In fact all the wild flowering plants have excelled themselves this year: bluebells, lilies of the valley, orchids, ox-eye daisies, to name but a few, more of everything than I remember. You could ask yourself whether there is not something else going on, whether the Earth might not have some other resources to draw on. We could say that the prolific rains are the reason. This is where there is a choice. We could persist in having materialistic explanations for everything, or we could wake up to the myriad invisible beings and forces which are at work with and within the living being of the Earth. If we do wake up and express (even out loud!) our love and gratitude to the natural world for its beauty and abundance, we could be providing these beings with the essential nourishment that could make all the difference. If we remain caught in a materialistic mind set and fear of scarcity, which lead to the depredations mentioned above, then the nature spirits, like unloved children, could become destructive. We have the choice. The Earth’s ‘other resources’ might be none other than we ourselves.

We human beings are not a chance phenomenon in the universe. The unique physical conditions on the Earth are her gift, allowing us to develop individual self awareness. It may be of vital importance in the evolution of ‘Everything’ that, while tasting life from a physical, we remember that we are divine creator spirits, able to co-create with all other spirit beings and nature spirits. Earth and the whole cosmos wait for us to take our place within the one-ness of all, using our hard won inner awareness to become the portals we potentially are, each one of us, into a new Earth and a new humanity.

THE GENTLEMAN & THE FAUN Robert Ogilvie Crombie

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Flow of a Different Kind

This rain is relentless
such a summer of wetness and water,
but the leaves drink and stretch,
expand and drink, grow and drink,
until we go down in a tsunami of green,
no respite, drowning in unfurl,
uncoil and unfolding of foliage,
in a fine fanfare of bush and tree,
wild tanglegrowth of
reaching branch and creeping stem;
and the green earth sings:
‘Hail to the moisture,
hail to the rush of river,
the breaking down of banks and
all expected outcomes,
to the rapid rippling of torrents
in my veins,
this flow of a different kind.’

WOOD WISDOM H. Catherine Watling

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But the sun does come
in sudden bursts,
unforeseen, and the roses
uncurl their secret
fragrance
quickly,
to catch us for a moment of delight:
this sudden hidden meeting
in a quiet room,
where time changes pace.
Wisdom, age and seeking
meet on a threshold and, briefly,
memory and prophecy inhabit our hearts.
In this place, inspired by messengers from the future,
we start to learn,
learn to ride,
ride these rising rivers.
This rain is remorseless,
such a summer of wet winds and transition,
but the green earth sings;
‘Hail to the rush of river,
the bursting of banks and
all expected outcomes.
Hail to the roaring of torrents
in my underground veins,
this flow of a different kind.’
For Stanley 8th July 2012
Jehanne

Panning for Gold

It’s like panning for gold,
seeking your starborn self,
only the finest few grains glimpsed
among soil and rock dust,
unanticipated crumbs
inside this earthborn, this egoity,
webwork, where the tasks we set
outside time are
tangled and knotted in
soul struggle.
Dare to ask:
who is it says ‘I’ to yourself?
the one who dimly remembers
the brief you gave yourself, and
the gift of knowing,
before the earthquake of birth,
fragmentation of loss.
Only provisional,
all these centuries,
this we have been, predominantly.
Can you mother this ‘I’ now,
this gold,
the one who looks out at you
from the mirror,
the beauty that chose
to be you?

Jehanne 28th June 2012