Let the Earth Approach
The night is clouded, close with rain, evergreens sway in shadow; darkness comforts. I let the earth approach, tree and tide, the sound of wind,
The night is clouded, close with rain, evergreens sway in shadow; darkness comforts. I let the earth approach, tree and tide, the sound of wind,
White capped waves lift across the sea as winter storms blow in from the south. Bending to the force without breaking, wind strengthens root, trees
Clouds descend on the island with the sound of foghorns and cries of geese. Somewhere hidden above sun and stars continue, while below I’m motionless
Sunlight on a wind blessed sea, the earth green and alive in the ritual of everyday beauty. I practice silence with deep rooted trees, letting
Putting faith in what passes I am abandoned, while the earth remains in green face shining. The dark of night and sweep of the tide,
Dawn on a steel gray sea, the rain-cleansed earth breathes; ancient trees and freshened grass share the hallowed space. Quietly I sweep the inner temple
Old roots reach deep water, travel through hardpan and stone to the well beneath the earth. There the wealth of many winters, full with light
Flood tide fills the coves and beaches, with sunlight bright on a calm sea. Beauty enters the hollow places, bringing peace to heart and mind
Sun and stars bathe the Earth in light, illuminating the soul in morning solitude and sacred dark. We journey through cosmos gathered in this embrace,
In the still morning the sound of whale’s breath, geese in flight, fog horns in the distance. Close as always the comfort of silence and
The blue gray morning signals autumn’s approach with the clouds of late summer. The green world breathes under gentle rain; mosses come to life, green
Sunlight on the water this cool September morning, with rain clouds over the distant island; the earth pitch-perfect in communion. It took a lifetime of
In the dawn hour the sea lies flat between tides, no wind or movement, only the quiet of the coming day. As the sun rises
Communion is hard to come by when so much is based on untruth. Addiction to lying demands increasing doses, until the body collapses under the
My cask of praise empty, the last words of thankfulness consumed in the burnt forest, I struggle to the altar heart weary and without solace.