Little cosmic revolution - III. tilted back to the sun

How I relate to Native American wisdom.

Natural, untwisted, based on fundamental, earthly observations. Whether we lost sense of it all, or were partly eclipsed from it  remains a point of opinion.
When my day's filled with too much noise, I listen to the wind; reconnect my heart with our earth by spreading fingers on the grass. I ken (know) I'm home.
And then I can hear the real world - bird calls, wingbeats from intrepid starlings whizzing around our house,  turn of tide.  Listening to it does not demand much effort, however, it must come from within. We can trek across a city/country park, a glen or a mountain and lock ourselves into its respective earthly pulse, bio-rhythm, every time we open ourselves to it all. Stillness in our heart allows such moments. I cherish them all. Standing on the edge of a woodland and bearing witness to a dawn chorus remains as exhilarating as spotting an orca from the shore...  Or enjoying the robin or the blackbird song at dawn and dusk (whether you sit in a rural or urban garden). Our world speaks through a megaphone...

 Now we have crossed that cosmic line, we are about to run again towards the sun. This period in the year remains one of my favourites - in between spring equinox & summer solstice, as our waders, farmland, moorland and seabirds are gradually returning to their native grounds. Familiar sounds I love to hear, such as drumming snipes in April...  Tap-dancing light rain on our roof tiles whilst curlews call in nearby fields? Light is overriding night - blue dominates on both sides of the horizon. Early morning might still feel fresh; showers may still dampen grass blades, we can't run away from the sun. Until we hit da simmerdim (light azure late spring/summer mini-nights), the earth gradually unveils a painter's palette all around - splashes of colours, as described recently by a poet friend :). Meadows will unveil the most delicate wild flowers, just like hillsides, ditches, peat and headlands... Oh, all arrives in due time and my heart pounces in sheer anticipation. Spring, that glorious quarter of circle...

To lie down in tall grass and feel the magic of the world is to be connected with our life. 

Totem Bird

I am raven,

jet solitaire,

diamond-shaped tailed –

messenger, bridge between two worlds;

one palpable,

the other, dream,

my psychic soars above heather.

I bring spirit, inner knowledge & often scavenge

on useless.

I am message & messenger.

I sometimes call… summon or jeer –

my presence breaks

this earth silence,

you know your future is changing.

Let me awake you,

lone dreamer.

Copyright © Nat Hall 2006