IN THE PRESENCE OF THE SACRED

I am Hanging Garden Tree,
my thick trunk hosting
an abundance of life forms,
diverse and vital;
garlanded with root and vine,
with fern and flower,
a universe within my leafy bower.

I am home to Sky Creatures, all the winged ones,
Owl and skyhawk, murrelet and swallow;
small furry-pawed ones dart among my branches
and nestle soft within my sleepy hollows.

A thousand fern fronds
drape fringed shawls along my shoulders,
soft moss, green lichen and fat mushroom clinging,
climbing vine that wraps itself around me
and, in my hair, a hundred sparrows, singing.

Myriad insect worlds I tend and harbor.
I shelter bear and wolf, am food for deer.
To all Two-Leggeds who come before me, seeking,
I offer peace within my silent arbor.

Young Standing People upon my branches grow.
They came through me, nurtured the best I know.
Roots fattened with the seasons of my living,
they stretch beyond my reach now, one by one,
as I support their separate struggle
towards the sun.

In this the season of my deep reflection
I'm tired now; I have endured an age.
At dusk, Sky Woman comes,
serene and sage,
to scatter stars about my weary head,
while Sister Moon sends me
such perfect dreams,
I'm spirit-fed,
and morning comes
too soon.

In this grove we're in
the presence of the sacred:
feeling our shared breath,
tenancy of earth and sky,
interconnected to all the Four Directions
by the Love to which we all belong,
under the grace of a Celestial Eye,
all singers of a universal song.

This was written as a Tofino writers' group exercise in July, 1999 : what kind of tree would you be, if you were a tree? I chose the Hanging Garden Tree, on the Tall Tree Trail on Meares Island. Many life forms grow upon its branches. As a single mother of four, grandmother of four, I could relate to this tree:) The air in that forest felt more sacred than in any cathedral.

The title could be a response to Jerry Mander's In the Absence of the Sacred, his book on how technology has impacted the world. 

Posted for the Poetry Pantry at Poets United, where you will find some wonderful reading on Sunday morning. 

LOVER OF THE SKY

I am a lover of the blue sky.
Perfect clouds like a dream sail by;
of a green walk in the wild wood;
of tall trees dripping on me where I stood;
of mist rising up where the river bends;
of the small sweet song of a striped-headed wren.

I am a lover of the burning flame
lit for world peace in hearts the same.
I am a lover of the morning sun,
already radiant the day begun.
I am a lover of the whale, leaping,
of the blue, blue hills in the sunset sleeping.
I am a lover of the eagle's cry,
who sweeps and soars without a Why.

I am a lover of life alone,
of the heart's peace when it's at home.
I am a lover of my old dog's smile,
of his warm brown eyes, of his lack of guile.
I am a lover of the warm spring rain,
of the smell of earth stirring to life again.
I am a lover of the ocean's roar,
of the sandy beach stretching all before.
I am a lover of rock and log,
of driftwood shapes looming through the fog.
I am a lover of clouds, of stars,
of the falling dark, of soft guitars,
of the meadowlark, of the summer breeze,
of days of struggle, days of ease,
of heartfelt love gone away too soon,
of goodbyes under a slice of moon.

I am a lover of fresh-cut grass,
of children's laughter, of dogs I pass,
of babies all innocence and rapture,
of the bent and aged who tremble after,
of the falling leaves, of a job well done,
and I am a lover of beasts that run,
of water that moves and creates its own way,
of the journey made and the price I pay.

I am a lover of brand new books,
those journeys that I never took.
I am a lover of music that sings
songs of the heart, the hope it brings,
and the flight of poems for a brand new dawn
that knows this life is Moving On.

Like the heron, stalk-still at the water's edge,
makes a sudden leap, I am the same.
Poised to dive from a tilting ledge,
the horizon lit with a golden flame,
I'm waiting to hear Someone
call my name.

My Toadly Friends, this poem was written January 31, 2001. But I am posting it here for Ellie's prompt at Real Toads: write about the things you love, the things that get you through. I have been on the edge myself of late. It has been a harrowing few days, given forest fires and distressed wildlife, and I just don't think I can write it any better than I did in 2001. Plus Ellie isn't very strict and she wont get mad at me, LOL. So here you go. From Blue Sky Woman to you, with love.

Wild Woman Loses It Completely

These are the baby bears that broke my heart

Wild Woman has an achey-breaky heart,

because the forests are burning,

the wild creatures are suffering, and starving, 

and have no where to run.

A mama polar bear sits on 

a tiny piece of melted iceberg,

ten miles from land,

holding her cub in her arms.

They are waiting for death by starvation

on this planet we have hotted up

beyond sustaining, which is melting.

A young officer loses his job

for refusing to shoot two orphaned baby bears

in a world aflame and gone quite mad.

Government-Speak goes blah blah blah

forever

and nothing changes.

Emissions dont get reduced fast enough

or Enough enough.

They are still pushing the pipeline through,

still fracking,

even while we're running out of water. 

Are they INSANE?

Wild Woman just cant take it any more.

But.

The voice of the people rise  up in protest.

The young man will hopefully not lose his job.

Though it would be very satisfying

if his boss, who gave the order to shoot, lost his.

Wild Woman cannot lose hope,

even if we are all doomed.

Because hope is all she has to give,

along with love for Mother Earth,

who is so heartbreakingly beautiful.

I will go to the river,
drink in its cool green peace,
apologize to the trees

for how poorly we have cared 

for their sister forests,

for the incredible boiling soupy 

red hot mess we've made of living.

Two baby bears got saved this week.

I will hang my heart and my hope

on that.

For those who missed the news story, up-Island, a young conservation officer was sent to shoot a mother bear who was trying to get food from a porch freezer, since there isnt much food to be had in a burning-down forest, or a drying up river. Much of their habitat has been clearcut. The rest is now burning down - which means hotter summers, and more fires each year.

The officer was told to also shoot her two baby cubs, and refused, instead taking them to a wildlife recovery centre so they could have a chance at living, for which he was suspended without pay. During the course of this news story going viral, it was revealed they have "euthanized" (shot) 1900 bears on the Island in recent years - 450 a year - "because there aren't the funds to relocate them". Money, always money, never what is right.

People were outraged, and he will hopefully be reinstated, after an investigation. But after my distress over the forests burning, this story put me right over the top. It takes a lot for Wild Woman to lose hope, but I came close. The world is mad. BUT the people are not - and one has to keep believing their voices will be heard across the land, and we can turn this doddering, misguided, dangerously tipping ship of fools around. 

We are at the mercy of all these forces every bit as much as that mama bear holding her baby on a tiny bit of ice ten miles from shore. We just don't know it yet.

SUNFLOWERS

sunset.com

On a day

when the heart was heavy,

when the forests were burning,

the wildlife in terror,

Wild Woman's heart hung heavy.

But then,

the kind words and well wishes from friends

arrived to refill her heart

with gratitude and gladness.

It was like looking into the heart

of a sunflower.

No one can stay gloomy for long

looking at a sunflower.

Thank you, my friends,

for sending rays of sunshine

to lighten my heart

and roll those dark clouds away.

Yesterday was a day of amazement and gratitude, for the rich world of the poetry community in which I live these days. You poured your kind and loving words into my heart, which drank them in gratefully. It felt like walking through a field of sunflowers, under blue sky, on a day full of goodness. Thank you for your sunny presence in my life.

Fire on Dog Mountain

Dog Mountain photo courtesy Wade Epp

Under the imperturbable  

blackened bowl of sky,

the fires burned all night; 

the crackle and roar licking at the heels

of the frightened fleeing deer, 

the singed wolves,

the crouching cougar,

the mother bear and her cubs.

All are expelled, terrified,

hungry and homeless,

onto the streets and roads,

no safe place to run,

frightened, helpless, exposed

to the wildlife officer's gun

come morning.

What a world this is. Global warming bringing such extreme heat that rainforests turn into deserts. What will it take for legislation to come from government, for the tough changes to be made? For industry to do their part, pay their share, clean up their mess?

CBC News

Today there is a news story going viral, about a wildlife officer up-Island being suspended without pay for refusing to shoot two orphaned bear cubs. He took them to a wildlife recovery centre after their mother was shot, as she desperately tried to find food. Not much food available in burning forests. Or in dried up rivers.

Because he had a heart, and is humane, he did not follow orders. Good for him! What a world this is, where every problem is solved by shooting something, where the preservation of the  planet we live on is not our first priority.

The little bears will be all right and will be released into the wild once they are old enough. If there is any wild left by then.

for Sumana's prompt at Poets United: Night. It is hard for me to write right now. I find this hard to take, my friends.

Old Blue

Poor old Blue Car
we traveled together for a lot of miles.
You served me well.
You didnt ask for anything.
Just a little gas and a high ready heart 
for the road ahead.
You were tired and battered and dented
with pieces falling off.
Your brakes and doors didnt work.
But your engine started 
every single time.
You never let me down.

It felt like putting a dog down
leaving you at the wrecker's.
I patted you,
thanked you,
felt a pang as I turned away.

I loved the way you looked
when I came out of a store
to find you in the parking lot.
Staunch, steadfast, faithful, waiting,
True Blue.

Thank you for those many miles
we journeyed together,
for carrying my Pupster to all the wild places,
for transporting all my little passengers
to parks and trails and rivers and lakes
and the ice cream store.

You hold a lot of history 
inside your battered body,
as do I.
As do I. 

I hung a feather in my jaunty new little red car,
am grateful for its brakes and tires and engine.
But it will never take your place.
The ride will never be True Blue,
in quite the way it was with you.

Yellow Sky of Mo(u)rning

photo by Ali Chase

photo by Carrie Jo

The forests are all burning,
ominous yellow sky from the forest graveyard
blanketing the town,
the planet heated beyond endurance,
as if it is self-immolating
like a Buddhist monk, in protest,
in hope of liberation.

The forests are all burning,
The birds are startled silent, 
a few questioning cheeps
under the thick blanket of smoke,
trying to determine
if it is morning.

The forests are all burning.
Deer and cougar and bear flee the fiery slopes.
Focused on escape, they run before the flames,
equally prey and victim
of the consequence of human greed.

The forests are all burning.
The planet is too hot
because of human greed,
human disregard for the interconnection 
of all beings and ecosystems.

The forests are all burning,
as if the planet itself is self-immolating,
like a Buddhist monk,
in protest,
in hope of liberation.

The planet will liberate itself
from the ashes of our existence,
as we burn our own house down.

Yesterday at the lake, we watched the forest fire on Dog Mountain. There is no way to stop it. All these years, we have had the Mars water bombers in the lake for just such events. This year, the government, in its usual lack of wisdom, declined the contract for the bombers. which are now grounded, while the forests burn. 

This morning, I woke to a yellow ominous sky, a valley fallen eerily silent. I am feeling so sad about how corporate greed has devastated this planet, while the governments who are supposed to serve and protect instead served corporate interest, and chose holding onto power over the good of all beings.

Western Canada and the north are burning. My soul is sad this morning. Weary, resigned and sad.