The salt water is clear to the bottom
but the sky is clouded with smoke.
In Canada the forests are burning
and with wind from the north
we share the suffering.
We’re all one earth,
the sea and sky
and patient ground.
We eat from the same bowl,
drink from the same cup
and our long held beliefs
of separation and distance
are going up in flame.
We’ll learn again
the language of connection,
the words the old ones used,
for we are woven together
on the loom of time
with tear filled eyes
our common fate.
photograph by Louis MacKenzie
Reading of “Loom of Time” with music by Sunday Service Choir.
A very penetrating poem that speaks to this moment in time. May the people listen and heed the teaching.
Don, thanks. While we are eating from the same bowl and drinking from the same cup, it is still a good idea to keep a vigilant eye on the lawyers lest they take more than a proper share.
Thank you Don for this Poetic call for connection and perspective! I love how your words weave together the language of connection and our oneness with life everywhere. Woven together on this beautiful Cosmic tapestry.
Thank you
Thank you for your poignant words, Don. As the world braces from the release of radioactive water from the Fukashima Daiichi Nuclear Plant, we are again reminded of the one world reality. There is probably little choice in the matter now; The choice was made many millennea ago, when mankind chose to separate himself from the Great Spirit.
This should be put to music.
It’s a song, it’s a prayer, it’s either wake up or perish. You said it so well.
Thank you
As you say, Don, “We’re all one Earth” — learning anew the language of connection that bespeaks our deep-seated longing for the Oneness of Spirit that sustains an inborn warmth of Heart. Therein, each present moment’s time looms Eternal, making easy the sanguine surrender fated to weave us together, one with All. So, Godspeed & cool out, you torrid cup and bowl!
I love this prayer, Don.
Once again, honoring your Great Gift! Warm Blessings.
Modern language is indeed the language of separation, -built into the grammer. Love this poem