When you enter a grove peopled with ancient trees,
Earth Day 2013
If winds are the spirit of the sky’s ocean, the clouds are the texture. Theirs is easily the most uninhibited dominion of the earth. Nothing in physical shape is too fantastic for them. They can be round as apples or as fine as string, as dense as a jungle, as wispy as a whiff of down, as mild as puddle water or as potent as the belch of a volcano. Some are thunderous anvils formed by violent up drafts from the warm earth. Some are ragged coattails of storms that have passed. Some are stagnant blankets of warm air resting on cold. I have seen clouds in the dawn that looked like a pink Sultan with his pale harem maidens and a yellow slob of eunuch lolling impotent in the background.
What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset.
The wind, a sightless laborer, whistles at his task.
Except. What is normal at any given time? We change just as the seasons change, and each spring brings new growth. So nothing is ever quite the same.
The only thing which has to heal
“The morning wind spreads its fresh smell. We must get up and take that in, that wind that lets us live. Breathe before it’s gone.”
There is hope if people will begin to awaken that spiritual part of themselves, that heartfelt knowledge that we are caretakers of this planet.
Spring is nature’s way of saying, “Let’s party!”
With complete attention, landscape celebrates that liturgy of the seasons, giving itself unreservedly to the passion of the goddess.
If the sight of the blue skies fills you with joy,
The whole idea of compassion is based on a keen awareness of the interdependence of all these living beings, which are all part of one another, and all involved in one another
The way we see the world shapes the way we treat it. If a mountain is a deity, not a pile of ore; if a river is one of the veins of the land, not potential irrigation water; if a forest is a sacred grove, not timber; if other species are biological kin, not resources; or if the planet is our mother, not an opportunity – then we will treat each other with greater respect. Thus is the challenge, to look at the world from a different perspective.
May you experience each day as a sacred gift woven around the heart of wonder.
photo is by Foltiere:
- « Previous Page
- 1
- …
- 286
- 287
- 288
- 289
- 290
- …
- 302
- Next Page »