POEMS IN A PANDEMIC

CHILDREN OF THE VOICE

We are Children of the Voice

Born of the Holy Word

Shaped from the Breath of Cosmos.

Listen– and you will hear.

What will it say through you?

 

Sitting here in Darkness

I see the Dawn opening.

Between the woven branches of trees,

my voice sings out welcome

as Light grows.

 

Riding in my silver car

through the empty streets

we fly, my Husky and I,

singing our morning song.

Joy soars through her in howls to the sky.

 

We are children of the voice.

What is the song I sing?

 

Walking in the forest, I stand beside you.

Cedar” I say. And you say, “Come closer.

Touch my skin. Feel the strength within.

Can you hear my voice

singing in the wind?”

gwendolyn

 

IN THE STILLNESS

In the stillness

of the forest awakening

the morning bird sings.

 

In the stillness

of towns shuttered in fear

each evening doors open

Voices rise and bells ring

We are grateful!”

the people sing.

Sending out a web of Love

they weave it round the Earth

watching it strengthen and grow.

 

In the stillness

deer graze peacefully in back yards

dolphins swim in clear channels.

An eagle soars above me as I walk.

Remember. Remember.

What it means to be “at home.”

gwendolyn

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THE WEAVER

THE WEAVER

A visitor came

Wearing a dark cloak.

He wrapped it tightly around himself

and spoke of what he saw–

All things gone wrong

disease and death and war.

 

Try it on,” he said

as he went out the door.

I did not want the darkness

I struggled with its weight,

but found he had left it anyway.

The heaviness fell around me.

I tried and tried to take it off

But it was only when I asked my Heart

What can I do to find you again?”

That the answer came.

 

Give me the Beauty that you see.

Let me hold it for you.”

 

Then I began to remember–

rain turned to rainbows by the sun,

new leaves shining in the morning light,

dogs running joyously on the beach,

people laughing and waving,

from a distance, echoes of love.

 

My Heart grew larger and began to shine.

I will weave a cloak from moments of Beauty

sewn with the golden thread of sun

and the silver thread of moon.

I will wear it lightly

so it flows around me

with the changing winds.

gwendolyn

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SPRING EQUINOX HOLY DAY CEREMONY CANCELED

WANDERLAND RAINFOREST SPRING EQUINOX HOLY DAY CEREMONY CANCELED

(but Spring is not!)

Although we are joining in the community effort to not give the coronovirus a chance to spread, I would like to share with you the meditation that would have been the center of our planned ceremony. It is a “walking” meditation; that is, you let the words go through your mind as you walk through your day. And your day will, of course, always present all kinds of bumps and jolts, surprises, and– Beauty. The meditation helps you keep Balance while you go through the changes.

From the Navajo

Hózhó náhásdlíí’

Walking In Beauty (Blessing)

Today I will walk out, today everything unnecessary will leave me,
I will be as I was before, I will have a cool breeze over my body.
I will have a light body, I will be happy forever,
nothing will hinder me.
I walk with beauty before me. I walk with beauty behind me.
I walk with beauty below me. I walk with beauty above me.
I walk with beauty around me. My words will be beautiful.

In beauty all day long may I walk.
Through the returning seasons, may I walk.
On the trail marked with pollen may I walk.
With dew about my feet, may I walk.

With beauty before me may I walk.
With beauty behind me may I walk.
With beauty below me may I walk.
With beauty above me may I walk.
With beauty all around me may I walk.

In old age wandering on a trail of beauty, lively, may I walk.
In old age wandering on a trail of beauty, living again, may I walk.
My words will be beautiful.

As you walk the Earth, welcome the return of Spring as life returns in a myriad of forms. Here at Wanderland, trilliums are budded; oxalis is opening on the forest floor; and the golden ears of skunk cabbage are tuned to bird song and spring breezes.

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SPRING EQUINOX HOLY DAY CEREMONY

 

SPRING EQUINOX-

HOLY DAY CEREMONY

Thursday, March 19, 12-2

At Wanderland Rainforest Iseum

May the Beauty I love become what I do.”

We stand at the Gateway of Spring; Dark and Light are momentarily balanced. After Spring Equinox, every day is brighter than the one before as Earth blossoms into Spring. At Wanderland, skunk cabbage pushes up through the bogs like golden ears—opening to the song of the early morning birds. The plants on the forest floor awaken. It is a time of rapid growth and change. What is unfurling in you? What are you dreaming into form? How do you find balance in change?

For the teaching on this day, we will dwell with the Creation Goddess of the Huichol Indians of Mexico—“Grandmother Growth.” She dreams form into Being from her Heart. Her teaching is that you are a Sacred Being here for a purpose—to find your Heart Path and to walk it all the days of your life.

In this Holy Day Ceremony, led by Gwendolyn Endicott, we will explore the meanings of Balance and Beauty and how they form a foundation for envisioning new growth and shaping the future. The Ceremony will contain myth, story, and ritual.

There is no charge but suggested donations of $10-20 toward the maintenance of the forest sanctuary are welcome. The ceremony starts at noon. Please do not come late. Questions: contact gwendolyn@nehalemtel.net or 503-368-6389. For more information on Wanderland Sanctuary and Iseum, go to our website: wanderlandrainforest.org

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THE EAGLES FLEW OVER

THE EAGLES FLEW OVER

Two eagles soar over the little town of Wheeler. Down below the Nehalem River is swollen and muddy. In the distance is the roar of the ocean gone wild. Cars move slowly down 101; drivers looking straight ahead, do not see the eagles. Above the town are clear cut hills—except for one patch. This is where the eagles live. From there comes the sound of heavy equipment and trees falling. A few miles South, a hillside has been “condemned” because of mud slides. One could say it is in “recovery.”

Down below the eagles, a line of people a block long look up and cheer. They are holding signs that speak of their concern: “Do not clear cut the last remaining forest above Wheeler”; “Trees give us clean air”; “Trees hold the earth”; Forests give homes to the animals and birds”; “Toxic chemicals poison the earth, the water, the people”; “Clear cuts destroy the forest”…The people choose to believe that the eagles are blessing them as they stand here on this stormy day protesting a logging operation already underway in the forest where the eagles live. These are people who live and work here on the Oregon Coast in towns where the drinking water has been compromised, where the creeks and rivers run brown with silt, where the salmon are diminishing and the forests disappearing.

That’s me down there, leaning on a walking stick, teetering on the edge of the curb, white hair blowing in the wind. I will be 85 in a few days. My grandparents homesteaded in Oregon. Our family carries the memory of old growth forests, the rivers alive with salmon, the wildness and beauty that used to be. For 30 years I have lived in this valley watching the clear cuts happen above and around me; watching the stream I live near run turbulent and muddy, eroding the banks and flushing trees and silt downstream to the river.

A few blocks down—on the other side of the highway—a group of people stand in support of the loggers. They, too, live here. They fear the loss of jobs and income. Some come from families that have long been loggers in a state that has been known for its vast forests that seemed to go on forever.

Now Oregon is known as the clear cut state with the weakest protections for the waters and forests of any state on the West Coast. For a moment, a ray of sun breaks through the clouds and we look up to absorb the warmth. And I wonder what I would say if someone from “the other side” were standing next to me, both of us feeling so strongly that we have come to stand here on this stormy day. It is not about the right to log. We will always need and value wood products. It is about the way we choose to treat what we call a re-source. The word assumes it will regenerate, and the earth does have incredible powers of regeneration. When everything is taken from the hills, however, and toxic spray applied to kill the undergrowth, and the intricate system of plants and fungi, trees may be replanted, but the forest is destroyed.

What we see around us in this watershed are the consequences of our actions—just as the planet is now unbalanced by the impact of our choices. At the center of this crisis is an amazing “invention” called a tree which we now know has the ability to clean the air, hold the soil, filter the water, and cool the planet. Perhaps I could just ask the question: Can we find a way to take what we need without destroying that which gives us life?

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