The Eye of the Goddess by Sara Wright

Spiraling In

I buried you today,
a fluff of earthly feathers
dipped in ebony
  bronze
and gold.
He left you
on my road
innocent
already broken
Just a tiny bird
peeping pitifully
in fear and pain
cocooned in
deep distress.

I scooped you up
held you against
my heart

Instantly Still
I felt you knew…

Wild Mothering
kicked in
create a loving
space for
life or death

Above all
Be Present
for whatever
is ahead…

I dug a grave
where you were born
  nestled under pines
fragrant roots
 cradled what
was left
your bones are
made of light

 Offering prayers
to Her
Our Bird Goddess*
I bowed my head
Ancient and Wise
She who Sees
She who holds
Abusers accountable
(as do I)
 She watches
 over us all
honoring the dead.

***Almost everyone I know around here dismisses the reality of goddess as some kind of woo-woo feminist ‘religion” or worse.

Absurd. But cultural ignorance reigns.

I am old enough to know that nothing I can say will change the closed minds of those who live in fear and ignorance, so I no longer try.

I use the word ‘goddess’ as an expression of the female aspect of nature. Another way of breaking down the complexity of the word is to understand that Nature incorporates both masculine and feminine traits into many of her animals, trees, birds etc. etc.

I also choose the word goddess deliberately to honor ancient pre – Christian female traditions that stretch back in time to the Neolithic era – approximately 9000 years ago and beyond, and I do so without apology.

The grouse is just one of the birds that the goddess honors, a ground loving bird that understands the meaning of community, and one who inhabits the woodlands only asking for adequate shelter, enough food to survive, and to raise families in peace.

In the spring there is nothing more wondrous than listening to the drumming of the male as he attempts to attract his lady.

 Watching a grouse sitting in snow laden trees eating frozen berries is another winter joy I never tire of experiencing.

May the species live on.

Roots of Peace

I put my faith in this land.
sinking my roots into hers.
When I first came here
it was a holy place
Still is.
Roots of the Earth
run deeper than human time
outliving the cruelty
of those who never felt
Her Presence
those that harmed
embracing those who love her
Sparks of light rise
to the surface
S/he is re – sanctifying
that which was broken.
Her Power is Billions
of years strong
stretching across
the earth like
Prayer.

There is an uncanny relationship that develops between people and the land they inhabit if humans are not using the earth, building huge houses etc. etc. Impressing others with their ‘greatness’.  Never present. Moving, moving, moving, always on the run many people don’t stay long enough in one place to begin to develop any relationship, let alone allow The Powers of Place to rise up from the roots of the earth to speak. Others don’t care. To hear Earth messages people need to learn how to listen and I am the first to admit that this is a challenge in this world of endless noise, distress and distraction. Humans must also have an ability to be emotionally present to their surroundings. This process might begin with an attachment to a tree or a stone, a roaring brook or perhaps a bird or deer. The earth is always listening and if people are kind S/he begins offering gifts.

 I consider myself to be fortunate because the first time I stepped on this ground in torrential rain and heavy fog something started singing as I breathed in sweet-ionized air, heard a roaring brook and almost in a trance walked towards the sound. I knew I belonged here, and I answered the call. That first summer while I was gathering blueberries the earth rose up and embraced me. Oh, I was loved.

  Although so much has changed in forty years, the brutally logged forests create great blue holes in sky, and polluted air has become the norm. Around me hateful neighbors moved in shortly after I built my house, tormenting me with their cruelty for 18 years never once being willing to consider creating genuine relationship. I learned one lesson from them that has been invaluable: human evil is real.

 In our current socio- political reality we all need to be grounded in this reality. Learning to move with it is not an easy task but we need to stay aware without being caught. It’s like walking a tightrope. Currently, my horrible neighbors are gone, replaced by one young family who have transformed a once tortured property into a peaceful sanctuary in less than a year. 

Unfortunately, evil neighbors’ cronies are still active. There’s a bevy of them hiding in the shadows. The Eye of the Goddess was written about a baby grouse that had been mangled and left at the top of my road by one of them.

 To be hated for who you are is a form of insanity and always about the abusers. This person has been identified because I now have cameras… enough said.

I just looked out the window and behold a deer is munching on apples and watching me at the same time!

The Goddess Lives!