When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness,
I would almost say that they save me, and daily.
I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.
Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, “Stay awhile.”
The light flows from their branches.
And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say,
“and you too have come
into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled
with light, and to shine.”
~ Mary Oliver ~
During this evening program Ailim led the members through a poem creation exercise where we passed the pen to each person, building a poem. These are the two poems created by the grove.
Rain drops fall in the early dawn
landing lightly on the blades of grass
The wind’s beautiful song played like a faery’s touch
on the tips of my senses
Snakes work their way through the wetness in search of warmth
Crickets song heralds the Sun’s rise
A bright streak, a flash, an instant and the young Maple split
as the leaves speak to the wind
Birds take to wing
clouds part, winds rise, the Maple speaks
Taranis has spoken.
I’ve always enjoyed flying, but it was this morning that I was so distinctly reminded of how exhilarating the experience is for my elemental Air sign of Aquarius.
I’m on a Delta flight sitting next to the door of the MD88 headed back to Raleigh. I’m reading deeply spiritual chapter of ‘The Salmon and the Spring’ by Jason Kirkey when I’m jerked back into the moment by the acceleration for take-off.
The door of this plane sounds as if the window is rolled down. It’s loud – like very loud. The scream of the engine startled me while almost instinctively I wanted to put my fingers in my ears. At the same time I was pushed back into my seat with an abrupt shove of force.
With only about a 40% load of passengers, the plane was designed to haul a lot more weight and today we are getting to experience the unbridled force of situational over-engineering.
As we thundered down the runway I took in the incredible drama of pure elemental air and fire. I could smell the fumes of kerosene while the deafening scream of the engines took us into a steep climb away from earth.
A poetic drama inspired by long dead creatures; perhaps a pterodactyl that never knew that she would be part of such incredible dance of elemental air wizardry millions of years in the future.
“Perspective is what makes grass big and trees small.” — Ailim
“The folly of modern man has been to dismiss allusion, simile and metaphor, the foundation of myth and imagination – for the cold, dry vision of fact alone. It has rendered our society unable to imagine and connect our spirits to the natural beauty around us.” — Sundruid