Skin trembling day after day,
Heart fumbling out a new rhythm,
Unsettled by the news
Sorrow seeping into bones,
Crevices deep with ancient holding and fear
Being swirled up in this moment of uncertainty.
Red-shouldered hawk arrives again for winter refuge,
Bigger this year, more majestic,
Impossible to ignore,
Swooping through canyons outside the living room window.
His cries pierce the morning sky:
“Live closer to what is natural:
the rhythm of light and dark;
the drawing in and down of winter”
A call to quiet rest.
Tears begin to surface and stream,
Rivers of tears,
Like winter rain,
Eroding edifices of belief and hope.
The will to become is replaced by
A simple will to BE
As I settle into my place here
In this Ecosystem: one of a species
That lives in a coastal canyon,
Near towering redwoods, and open expanses,
Held by the grasses and the eucalyptus trees,
Warmed by the midday sun,
Slipping into sleep with the moon rising
Pulling on the tides inside my body – pulling and releasing.
Until I remember:
“Yes, I am home
Here in this Earth, in this Peace
Held in the belly of the cosmos.”
Like the child in the belly of the Mother
Into His place in all the world
Beneath a brilliant star-
Being delivered as a reminder
Of what is immediate and true
In a frightening and crazy world:
“We are born of unimaginable and immense love;
And to this love we return with each life, with each death,
With each season with each breath,
With each remembrance of those we love”:
You are one.
– BPR, December ‘02