You ask, "What is the Wind?" - A Bedtime Story

You ask,

“What is the Wind?”

Oh, that is the breath of sisters

Moving across space and time

Traveling through the trees

And moving among the hearts of all creatures.


That is Gaia setting loose her silver hair

Each strand, setting loose

A shining constellation of stars

Shining brightly to let her sister, Luna know

The day is done.


You ask,

“What is the Wind?”


That is Luna.

Hearing her sister, Gaia

She climbs Jacob's Ladder

With her skirt swirling

Steadily she moves closer

Rung by rung

Rising to embrace

To kiss the face

Of her dear sister.


On this evening

As on every evening

Since the beginning of time

These two sisters come together

To sip from the Milky Way

And whisper stories of their time spent apart.

Breathing

They sit in the quiet of daybreak
Inhaling the light and heat of the first slivers of sunlight

Filling lungs

Expanding belly

Holding the light, and the heat 

As it travels though veins coursing through the fullness of body ~ seeking and inflaming the Smoldering embers of soul

Next the exhalation

Releasing of all the toxins, tensions, anxiety, and the muddle from muscle, tendon, and bone ...

And FIRE builds in the belly

A delicious warmth that

Swirls and Swells and Spreads and Remembers

 A fire that co-creates and blesses
The fire and passion that reclaims space for all of creation within Creation's story

These Earthly Blessings

Ostara took these things very seriously
She knew the depth of their nobility
The truth that they held within their beauty; the healing, and the transformative

These Earthly blessings

The lengthening of days
The caws of the Sentry Crows
The pussywillows brave and soft
The coastal waters freeing themselves of ice, their salted waves rising up to lick the face of the moon

Ahhhhhhh The medicines of the Earth.

Yanking Hard

Her Inner-Child called out and yanked hard

On the Courage they shared

"Talk to me! Listen to me! Please!"

Their Bear-Heart, caught in the middle, dug in

Refusing to budge until the Child was heard

The Road of the Four Tall Brothers

Four seasons came riding

One by one

Each in its own time

Each in its own rhythm and cadence

Each harnessing the four winds 
Carrying the music of their appointed days in saddle bags

Four brothers stood tall

One by one

Each a noble prophet 
Preparing for feast of reunion

Each watching over its sacred direction

Each vigilant for the sound of whooshing hooves approaching 

A Goose River Spiral Dance on an Easter Sunday

We gathered at the river’s edge before an Eastern sky alive with an awakening promise

Inviting the curiosity of wild geese gliding on a river pink with the sky’s reflection

A softly clucking commotion that somehow, beyond explanation

Connected with us as brothers and sisters of Creation

And joined in with the Easter Sunrise Worship

Ice and the March air's bite could not restrain our collective joy

“He is Risen!”

Wild geese lined up

(It was now our turn to be curious)

None of us had ever seen such a thing before

And then, one behind the other

They glide, softly murmuring, and turning inward creating the most beautiful spiral dance

Our beautiful call to worship

When the Stone is Rolled Away

When the stone is rolled away

And we let go of the notion

That we are not lovable…

When we see ourselves as creations

Knitted together by the Creator

In mother's wombs & father's dreams…

When we let go and allow ourselves

To love what the Creator has created

Our strength and vulnerability...

When we dare to reach out

And touch the hem of the garment

Brave enough to ask for what we need…

When we place our hands

Alongside the hands of angels

And roll the stone away…

Perhaps the tombs of our fear will open

To a rushing in of the breath of Sophia

And dry bones will be filled with new life…

Oooh, to be willing participants

In our own emancipation!

Oooh, to risk coming fully alive!