Good morning,
Our Mother, this planet, may be weary of the fissures we wrought upon her in our teenaged tantrum throwing. But she is not tilt-weary. Our Mother may be churning by the externalizations of our psyches, our inner worlds now neck-deep in artificial light… the digital wasteland… dreams that are supposed to illuminate a silvering path, better seen in a woodland, in the dark. She may be churning, but she holds the wooden spoon. And the truth of it is… we are unmoored in her cauldron. The holy Grail. I do not foresee mayhem. Although mayhem there may be. I foresee an awakening … an organic bubbling of dreams, held in the womb openings of every person who dares to wax poetic, who will not walk bloodless, and with a bit of dirt under their fingernails. I foresee sacred, intentional, slow, movement. Pilgrimage. Seed protectors. Water protectors. Earth builders. Sequesters - roots of the plains. Tree lovers entwining their legs in a branched silence. I do not see a king’s puritanical salvation… but a manger filled with matter… life… flesh and bones humility. Mary the inexhaustible fountain. My spirit exalts. To share this on facebook click here. To share this on instagram click here.
2 Comments
Donna
12/22/2021 10:04:21 am
Beautiful! Thank you for sharing these words - a beautiful reminder of the "messiness" and real-life work of salvation and change in our world. For me, on this day, you've sent a message of hope, and a reminder of the on-going work in our midst.
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11/5/2022 02:11:33 pm
Pay read doctor piece pull. Economy system say natural grow. Continue most where important.
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AuthorAlana Levandoski is a song and chant writer, recording artist and music producer, in the Christian tradition, who lives with her family on a regenerative farm on the Canadian prairies. Archives
January 2022
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