Walking slowly, meditatively, I follow the rain washed gravel track leading up the valley through the conifers. I listen to the song of the evening landscape with senses alert and quietest footfall. My cathedral of trees waits, only I can see it - standing in the cold conclusion of winter.
‘Entertain my prayer,’ I syummon my energy to shout - towering pines hold the words captive within their boughs.
I am there to give thanks. Thanks for the beauty of life and the fragility of creation. For the blessing of healing and the gift of creativity. Arms held up to give and to receive. Fresh air, the breath of life, drawn deep into my lungs.
Here I am. The gift of this moment is to be treasured. I reach out with joy and peace, weary after the challenge of previous months. Yet my mind is full of movement. Movement to create. Like nature: never stopping, always growing, changing, moving, living, breathing. As I have reached out to stand by an other, so I have drawn deep into a soulful journey from which much has emerged. Yet, giving, and being driven by a wild mind that seeks constant occupation against physical barriers is tiring, I can’t do it all yet I am drawn to so much.
I am not in my cathedral. Today I can only be there in my imagination: to dance, talk, give thanks for the day and seek blessings for my nearest ones and I.