Messages from nature: Days 1-11 (part 1 of 3)

Day 1

Her mood changes daily. ⁣

Some days she is raging, crashing⁣
Charging up the shoreline ⁣
Bigger, taller, demanding. ⁣

Other moments she is gentle. ⁣
Continual rhythmic motions⁣
Ice cold, in this part of the world ⁣
An invitation to enter ⁣
And cleanse. ⁣

Some days she is completely still. ⁣
Resembling something else, almost⁣
Her waves nonexistent⁣
She is Resting⁣

There is always an in between⁣
Clear liquid drops⁣
Of moonlight ⁣

All of her moods⁣
Ask for reverence ⁣

The original ⁣
Home of all beings⁣

She moves around obstacles ⁣
Licking them away⁣
Seducing them into shifting ⁣
Or she carries them in her arms⁣
Depositing them somewhere ⁣

She will relax you, exhilarate you⁣
Or kill you⁣
She does not feel one way or another ⁣
about her different ⁣

All the water in my body activates, hearing her⁣

Quite tempting⁣
Her pull⁣

Quite painful to open ⁣
To ⁣
Pure beauty ⁣

She comes closer and closer⁣
Will you feel me⁣
All I want is to be felt by you ⁣

The fairies dance around her droplets ⁣
Each splash of foam a⁣
Temporary stage⁣

Clear, rippling⁣
Beauty ⁣
Mysterious light⁣


I am beginning a new project. ⁣
33 days of messages from nature. ⁣
A practice of devotion, of opening,⁣
of sharing with you what she wants me to share. ⁣

Day 2


Let me show you, the way I wish I could have shown myself. ⁣

Let me show you the way the raspberry leaves are brown, are torn in spaces. ⁣

The way the trees grow lumps to ⁣
protect themselves ⁣

The way the wings of the ⁣
crow ⁣
are a bit⁣

The way the ocean washes up⁣
fish bones⁣

The way the eagle comes down on call, to eat the days-old carcass of a chicken. ⁣

The way the flower petals wither ⁣
and rot⁣

The way the clouds cover the sunrise, so⁣
there is none⁣

The way the moon disappears and then⁣
comes back ⁣

The way some berries are plump, vibrant.
And others are shriveled, dried out⁣

Tree corpses, floating along the waves ⁣

I wish I could have shown myself – look⁣
here, this leaf has speckles, just like your⁣
skin ⁣

Do you think it is less than the others? Or⁣
does it add something, something you⁣
don’t quite⁣
From the bouquet at the grocery store⁣

I wish I could have said, your naked body⁣
is as magnificent as this⁣

Tumbling, covered in mud, bitten by
mosquitoes. ⁣

But now we know. And there is no ⁣
Just a breath, allowing it in. ⁣


Day 3


Sit here, he says, take refuge from the ⁣⁣wind.⁣⁣
I am bleeding. Touch my pussy directly to ⁣⁣
the earth. Lay my head on him. ⁣⁣
Comfort. ⁣⁣
The ability to stay perfectly still, in all ⁣⁣
storms. ⁣⁣
I gaze at the cracks. Tiny pieces of fungi,⁣⁣
growing on something that is seemingly ⁣⁣
not alive. ⁣⁣
I tell him that people do not consider him⁣⁣
alive. ⁣⁣
He laughs, voice booming through my ⁣⁣
You tell me, he chuckles. Not alive??⁣⁣
The moss titters⁣⁣
I can feel his presence, I tell him. I know he ⁣⁣
is alive⁣⁣
He has been shaped by the ocean. Slowly⁣⁣
molded, gently over time, following her⁣⁣
desire ⁣⁣
This morning she was ferocious. Wind and⁣⁣
pouring rain, waves crashing⁣⁣
Right now she is gentler. The sun is its full,⁣⁣
unabashed self. ⁣⁣
Regardless of her moods, he is steady. But ⁣⁣
her presence changes him. ⁣⁣
Really, he reminds me, she is held in place,⁣⁣
supported by him. ⁣⁣
He feels a bit lonely, he says. People walk ⁣⁣
by every day, no one says hello⁣⁣
I tell him I thought he’d have more⁣⁣
philosophical things to say⁣⁣
He chuckles, again. Sends me images of⁣⁣
glaciers, ice sheets, earth before people.⁣⁣
The breaking apart of land⁣⁣
He is not fazed by me. He will be here ⁣⁣
after all of us are gone. ⁣⁣
What he wants me to remember is his⁣⁣


Day 4


It creates absolute silence. ⁣

A black ⁣
looking-glass of ⁣
floating leaves ⁣

Trees, suspended half ⁣
in water. ⁣

All of these trees grow here. Their roots⁣
submerged, bottom halves wet⁣
At all times⁣

No humans can touch here⁣
It cannot be walked upon⁣
Floated through⁣
Or swum⁣

A murky dark ⁣
Depth uncertain⁣
Eerily still⁣
It says: rot ⁣
No one would dare touch it⁣

And it is flat⁣
Perfectly mirroring⁣
What’s up above. ⁣

Here and there ⁣
Are drops, ripples⁣
But never a clue for what ⁣
causes it⁣

I say hello it says⁣

A vast⁣
You see in me what you ⁣
want to see⁣
If there was a portal ⁣
it is here⁣

It hosts endless ⁣
Home of many ⁣
But no mother energy⁣
Just an open empty ⁣
Dead and alive⁣
It wants to know why I came⁣

Why did you come⁣

To hear what you had to say⁣


You see what you are⁣

And the wind comes through⁣
The water flickers ⁣
creating the illusion of movement on⁣
the surface. ⁣

You do not enter unless⁣
You really ⁣
really want it⁣

It seems like it comes at a price, I say⁣


You will not ⁣
get ⁣
something here ⁣
It says⁣

This is a place of openings⁣
Of in between⁣

Stay too long you might ⁣
never leave⁣


Day 5


Warts and moles and grounds below⁣
A home for many things ⁣
Berries and leaves and fried krispies grow ⁣
Rounds and rounds of swings⁣

Is nonsense a rule or is it just for fun⁣
Down and down we go⁣
Life is a mix of all things in one⁣
Relax and enjoy the show ⁣

Lo and behold the arbutus tree ⁣
Cyclical lands of death ⁣
Come come closer and you’ll see ⁣
How we welcome rest ⁣

Scraps of pink and brown below⁣
Green yellow and red above ⁣
Show me the mix and take it slow⁣
This is the earth you love ⁣

The ringmaster he conducts himself⁣
I am all things in one⁣
Dying alive shedding blooming ⁣
This is what I do for fun ⁣

The trickster of trees⁣
He yells in jest ⁣
Don’t you want to stay too long⁣
For in these branches at this time⁣
You could do no wrong ⁣

You choose the things you want to see⁣
You’ve chosen the things you’ve liked⁣
Not everything is dew and misty sea⁣
Some of us are strange and sprite ⁣

Thank you for coming, now return⁣
To the place you call dear⁣
Come back again and I do say ⁣
I’ll see you far and near ⁣


Day 6


We live in a rainbow world⁣
But we get used to it. We imagine ⁣
that what our minds come up with ⁣
is more real and significant than ⁣
the beauty that surrounds us. We ⁣
start to believe that we must be ⁣
realistic, which means we have to ⁣
listen to the facts of society. That ⁣
what other people tell us matters ⁣
more than what we feel in our ⁣
bodies when we allow ourselves ⁣
to connect to the perfection ⁣
around us. We stop allowing ⁣
ourselves to get swept away by ⁣
the miracle of a leaf, the water, ⁣
the sunrise. We box ourselves in
comfortable homes and we get ⁣
farther and farther away from ⁣
the deep true knowing inside ⁣
our bodies. But every morning ⁣
the sun rises. And the earth ⁣
pours her beauty over everything,
regardless of who’s watching. ⁣
Sometimes she rises with ⁣
majestic clothing, dousing the ⁣
skies in streams of pink, ⁣
spraying out endless colors ⁣
and shifts in mood. Sometimes ⁣
she is simple, quiet, covered in ⁣
clouds. Sometimes the moon ⁣
watches, from the other side. ⁣
Because it doesn’t matter, if ⁣
you watch or if you don’t, you ⁣
will have your experience. And ⁣
you can choose to miss it. You ⁣
can choose to look and never ⁣
let it fully in, never let the ⁣
beauty rip you open and show ⁣
you what is true about yourself. ⁣
Every day will come and every ⁣
sunrise will play on the sky ⁣
and you can decide to close ⁣
your curtains and shut your ⁣
eyes. And after a while you will ⁣
forget that you are even making ⁣
that decision. But the sun ⁣
doesn’t forget, and neither do ⁣
the plants. They are there ⁣
every day, hoping you will open. ⁣


Day 7


Don’t go so far today, she says, motioning me over. ⁣

She is the grandmother of herbs⁣

I sit and she reaches for my hair, catching strands of it on her fingertips ⁣
I let my feet touch her too, leaning in⁣

She is flowering now⁣
Tiny purple blossoms on curvy arms⁣
Her woody stems a chestnut color, but lighter, toffee almost⁣

You are like a tree, I say⁣
and she laughs⁣
I am old ⁣
Waves of gentleness emanate from her being⁣

I ask permission⁣
And I rub a spring of her body in my hands ⁣
Releasing its scent. Like pine, perfume, dreams and longing⁣
Each tiny leaf is a well-dressed miracle⁣

I put it in my mouth⁣
Oils dissipating on my tongue⁣
They call this savory, usually, I tell her⁣
But she is sweet⁣

She wants me to put my phone down ⁣
To be wrapped in her arms, to just listen⁣

The sunlight touches both of us at once⁣

This is you, she says, holding me ⁣
This softness matters ⁣

She reminds me of my grandmother, in ways ⁣
Baking cookies, cutting up kiwis, candy, loving arms. Sugar in bowls of blueberries, milk. ⁣

I’ve been watching you, she tells me. I see the way you watch the sunrise, how you go out to look for things. I see you. ⁣

And my body opens and I allow that to wash through me. Softness, ease, hearty, reliable – she is all of those things. ⁣

Look at me, she says, dancing in the sunlight ⁣

Day 8


Come down into me. ⁣

Inhale. ⁣

Get me underneath your fingernails, on your face, in your mouth⁣

Rich moist⁣

Home of the dark. Home of⁣
Crawly things⁣
Feel them move⁣

Crush me, into your pores⁣
No, deeper⁣

I want to feel your darkness⁣
The expansive possibility ⁣
That comes from absence ⁣
From total ⁣
Nothing ⁣

And everything is birthed here⁣
The fertile, moist soil⁣

Don’t play with me for a moment⁣
Only to return to your light ⁣

True comfort lives here. ⁣

Naked body touching soil. ⁣

Nipple touching soil. ⁣

Dirt on vulva, in cracks, tracing your hips⁣

Out of me you grow ⁣

Do not pretend you don’t live here. Do not pretend your home is not in the ⁣

Return, over and over⁣

Writhing stillness⁣
Calls you home⁣

Day 9


I tore out this little one by accident a couple weeks ago. ⁣

Climbing down the rock wall, I didn’t see them. ⁣

My foot slipped, and woosh – their entire body fell down to the grass below. ⁣

They held together. ⁣

Surrendered, willing to accept their fate, in one clump. ⁣

I immediately gasped, told them how sorry I was. ⁣

Picked them up gently, kindly. ⁣

And tucked them back into the soil. ⁣

I tried to pat the dirt in around them. ⁣

And then I just kind of had to leave them there. ⁣

Trusting their nature, hoping they’d reattach. ⁣

The same way we scratch our arms, and trust our bodies to do their thing. ⁣

Today I came out just to check on them, see how they were doing. ⁣

They reattached. ⁣

As if nothing had ever happened, as if they hadn’t fallen 500x their distance, crashed to the ground. ⁣

I could see some roots poking out, searching for a place to re grasp. ⁣

I even tugged on them a little, just to see – they had attached themselves back down into the earth. ⁣

They did not die. They did not shrivel up, giving up forever. ⁣

They just put roots in, again, and continued on. ⁣


Day 10


Bursts of joy⁣
Mirroring my insides⁣

The fullest expression of what it means, to be alive. ⁣

Outpouring of love, overflowing down the rocks ⁣
Leaves like stars⁣
Delighting in existence⁣

Their stems like a tangled mat of hair⁣

It starts to rain, and fairies are shielded beneath them⁣
We play under here, they say to me⁣
If you listen really closely, you can hear us sing⁣

We wish you could come, they say⁣
Come run around with us⁣
Dance through the aster forest⁣
at night⁣

I try to part the leaves to get a glimpse, but they reveal nothing⁣

Spilling spilling spilling⁣
But never out of place⁣
Just a wash of brilliant ⁣
Dressing the rocks in tiny bursts of sunlight ⁣

Beauty is a need, they say⁣
I wish I could be Alice, and eat the cake⁣
But I cannot ⁣

So I will watch, from afar⁣
And just feel ⁣
their existence ⁣

Day 11


I bring myself closer, winding into their tendrils⁣
Feeling the sweet stickiness of each limb, how clingy, how strong, yet delicate⁣

Golden hour hits their hair⁣
I saved you for my last day because you remind me of myself, I tell them⁣

Let’s watch the sunset together ⁣
Thousands of arms⁣
Wrapping me up ⁣
Their tops⁣
Like the most gorgeous vulva, opening from the center⁣

So tall, so still⁣
So available. ⁣

I crouch down at the bottom, so their leaves fall around my face ⁣
Fireworks of lightness⁣

You are still a little wet, I say⁣
From all the rain. I didn’t know if I’d see you after all, because of the rain⁣
They are beginning to dry, fluff out, the same as before, just cleansed. ⁣

I feel tired of squatting. Want to take my photo and return inside. Get something, move on with my day⁣

Stay, they beg me. Watch with us⁣

My mind is like: the whole time? I will be so bored, this whole time⁣
They are like: what else is there?⁣

Nothing really, besides watching the sunset with other beings⁣

So I plop down, in the wet grass⁣

The sun moves behind the clouds⁣
Water hangs off the edge of a branch⁣
I take it onto my tongue⁣
The water turns pink⁣

Why don’t you like your lightness, they ask⁣

I don’t know, I sigh. Because it felt like it was taken away ⁣

If it gets taken away, I decide I don’t want it anymore⁣

Is that true⁣

No, I guess it’s not true, I say. ⁣

The water gets pinker⁣

I do want it. I am just afraid it is not possible ⁣

You know now that it is possible. ⁣

So what, I say. I just drop it? This need to be the dark?⁣

Embodied light, they say⁣

And the cloud lifts off the water in the distance ⁣


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