I didn't grow up in a church community, though I had a brief love affair with the ritual I found in an Episcopal church in Oregon in my twenties. My legitimate quest to create a spiritual practice was birthed in middle age by borrowing from the Buddhist practice of mindfulness, and the strong connection I felt for the worship of the Earth as taught us by our first nations. In Native American cultures The Great Spirit is a deity intertwined with the fabric of the Universe and the web of the life on Earth. It wasn't until recent years I discovered my Wiccan roots and the pre-Christian possibility that my ancestors were Earth worshippers. When I started this journey I worried because I didn’t know how to pray. Turns out we all know how to pray through our love of and gratitude for the gifts of life. This vault is for those who, like me, hunger for a spiritual practice and are learning to braid their own.

Sunday, July 12, 2015

Presence on the prairie




How long
since you tasted 
the sweet smell of prairie grass
at sunrise?
How long
since you dodged swallows protecting broods
sequestered under gables 
in mud feathered nests?
How long
since you paused to spy on a grasshopper 
sunbathing on a blade of smooth brom?
How long
since you slept on the ground,
laid still enough
to feel the beating of your Mother's heart?

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