Have you ever communed with flowers? Trees? Clouds?
In my last weekend in Mystery School we focused on Gaia. Immersed in a circle of amazing women, we’ve been meeting regularly for a year. This was the perfect ending to a long and wondrous journey of sacred ceremony, learning shamanic practices, delving into myth and mystery and gathering our strong hearts to open wider through deep letting go and moving toward our mastery.
In honor of Gaia we were asked to go outside to the glorious garden, pick a flower to “be” with and enter an altered state to learn what the flower might have to say.
It was heavenly being outside with warm sun and beauty all around us. I picked Evening Primrose because of the bright yellow color and the volume of flowers in perfect bloom, spreading across several feet. I didn’t know what to expect, but as soon as I began to focus, the flowers “spoke” to me, providing wisdom in a metaphor, as often happens to me in nature.
We were told to bring paper and pen so immediately I began to write. The poem, more accurately, wrote itself. Or maybe it really was written by Evening Primrose. Well, it doesn’t really matter. It was completed in moments. When I read it over, I decided I liked it, and not a word needed to be changed.
So here it is…I hope you enjoy it!
All of life is this precious.
All of life is this beautiful.
All of life is this fragile…
this delicate…this temporary.
All of life will change form.
A seed…a stem…a bud…a bloom…a bush.
Then back to dust, held inside the Mother.
And in season’s time,
Re-formed, re-patterned, re-membered.
The same…yet different.
Like you, we know not how the bud forms…
when it opens,
where it ends,
how one is dissimilar to another.
Or when the bud beside us
will fold, weaken
and return to soil again,
like your own soul.
we know there is beauty in the cycle;
richness from the dark depths
where sun can’t reach
and we can’t open.
We do not disappear. Not really.
We become the earth that holds us,
the rain that feeds us,
the Mystery that is within us.
All to be revealed again
in the next cycle of seed to bud,
bud to bloom, bloom to bush.
And then we know.
The Mother that embraces all of life
is the very force of our own face.