Chloe’s Shadow by Sara Wright

Gently nibbling seed
a bear bird’s
hind legs
charcoaled nose
glimpsed
through
shade fogged
windows…
Imagining…
Standing
where you just stood
matter is
frozen light
yours
a golden circlet
emerald star
circling
above us all
a beacon of
Cosmic Light
I weave a
crown of grape leaves 
round and
round crafting
Prayers
for body soul –
Your 
Protection
and mine…
Standing in your Shadow
One.
Still, Earth’s Keening
keeps us
awake at night.

The Proto-Indo-European root of the word Chloe means yellow or green. 

 It also means chlorophyll, the substance that gives most plants their green color.

The Greek goddess Demeter, Mother of the Earth, holds the Harvest in her Hand. 

 She is called by many names and Chloe is but one.

“Herstory’s” truths live on.  There are other ways we could deal with earth’s crisis and our own and feminist women and men are taking a courage stand for an alternate way to be… bridging our differences and acting as one global community is our hope and prayer. 

I go for a walk after writing this poem and the air is breathable. The last thunderstorm put enough negative ions in the air – a temporary blessing in otherwise unbearable heat. Breathing deeply and walking silently up and down the hill cloaked in beneficent darkness, even the fog that has descended doesn’t deter me from a peaceful night. As I return to the house I stop outside and talk with Nature asking once more for her protection. When the two fireflies begin blinking from tall uncut grasses, I know my prayers have been heard. Nature is always listening…

WHAT KIND OF TIMES ARE THESE
Adrienne Rich
There’s a place between two stands of trees where the grass grows uphill
and the old revolutionary road breaks off into shadows
near a meeting-house abandoned by the persecuted
who disappeared into those shadows.
I’ve walked there picking mushrooms at the edge of dread, but don’t be fooled
this isn’t a Russian poem, this is not somewhere else but here,
our country moving closer to its own truth and dread,
its own ways of making people disappear.
I won’t tell you where the place is, the dark mesh of the woods
meeting the unmarked strip of light—
ghost-ridden crossroads, leafmold paradise:
I know already who wants to buy it, sell it, make it disappear.
And I won’t tell you where it is, so why do I tell you
anything? Because you still listen, because in times like these
to have you listen at all, it’s necessary
to talk about trees.

PS  a disturbing footnote… the other day I saw an ad in a local Bethel group/gossip column that said something to the effect that all public hiking areas through the woods are closed to those who would do “wood magic” I have no idea what this phrase could mean specifically, but the intent is clear….

Closing: To the Navajo (see post on Mountain Way chant) the bear is the most powerful root healer who “scares” illness/disharmony away. S/he is both male and female. If research is done on other Indigenous stories, we see the same theme crop up… bears are also depicted in the most ancient cave paintings.

It seems to me that we need to be calling up the ‘spirit of the bear’ to help us heal what humans have broken – the original contract we had with nature allowed every species dignity and sentience and a willingness on the part of humans to co-exist with others in relative peace.