"Red as blood, white as snow, black as a raven's wing…." These three colors appear again and again in folklore the world over, but why? What is it about this triad that exerts such power on our collective imaginations?
Last week, Trump pulled the U.S. out of the Paris Climate Accord. This poem is not about that.
This bush is on fire,
and we have misplaced god.
Crow in a birch tree
shakes rain from its wings...
"Nature is not natural and can never be naturalized."
The lines we draw around the sacred earth can cut us right down the middle.
We draw a line around what is sacred, to set it apart as special. We imagine the planet as a precious blue marble floating in space, so small and far away we cannot see the delicate contours of our own faces turned upwards towards the night sky, doing the imagining. We worship the lands that give us life, the earth that sustains us with its salty waters and wild winds, its mud and grit. We encircle the world in the darkness of outer space, and it shimmers all the brighter.
But when we're not paying attention, the lines we draw around the sacred can cut us right through the middle.
These days our society is moving further and further from the simple conception of gender as a binary: male or female, man or woman. We are beginning to recognize that gender is complex.
This year I was especially blessed to have the chance to help plan the Earth Day service offered by my UU church this past weekend. And it was nothing short of marvelous.
An animist is never alone, not really. But how does that help an introvert?
An animist is never alone, not really. But if the world is so full of people, then where does that leave me, your friendly neighborhood introvert? There are days when the more I hang out with people, the lonelier I feel. What is it that the natural world offers that I cannot get from my fellow human beings?