Morning Prayer For December by Sara Wright

 Walk lightly
pay keen attention…
practice gratitude
but not at the expense
of truth
take sparingly
 share

 an Underground Web
writes the Story
but my roots
belong to earth
at the crossroad –
I choose
‘both and’

 Listen to
feathered voices
keep breathing deep
into the forest floor
feel that luminous Light
hidden beneath my feet
Balance fear and pain
with turkey flight.

My wild turkeys returned just a few days before the first winter storm. Rain, sleet, snow, rain, ice. I watch turkeys struggling to get to the seed I scatter. These body birds, embodied birds, fall through frozen crust. Watching them is exhausting. After ‘seeding’ they mull around the house for a couple of hours, unafraid, but always peering in at me with piercing marbled eyes. It took them just a few days to start whistling at me through the window if they decide they need more food! Otherwise the hens twitter softly, the males make clucking noises. I am on high alert for the lone hen with one leg that comes after the rest move into the forest because without food this turkey will surely die.  She’s part of one of the groups but with this handicap can’t forage like the others. It’s already obvious that this will be a tough winter for turkeys and for me. A warming climate has turned winters into a nightmare just as my dreams and scientists predicted. For me the snow is too heavy to shovel, and yet I must continue on because I have no help.

Wild turkeys have been my teachers for many years. I am watching three groups adjusting to being together in one place. Beyond the occasional chase or wing flap it amazes me that these birds who have been separated for the last seven months are now reuniting for the winter. No violence or attacks, irritation yes, a few raucous calls but in less than a week the adjustment has been made. The hens twitter at one window, the males cluck at the door scratching at my poorly shoveled paths that expose bare ground. Soon the flocks will contain both male and female birds. It won’t be until after spring mating that the hens will separate to find protected niches to raise their chicks, only to reunite once again come autumn.

Turkeys embody perseverance and courage, but they also live peacefully in community with one or two male protector turkeys always on the lookout for danger. During the day small groups gather in conversation or to keep warm. Every night the turkeys roost in the trees around the house, and if any stranger should appear they immediately take flight. Without such powerful wings it would not be possible for these robust birds to leave the ground. Once airborne they shoot up like cannon balls to land on the nearest tree.

I turn to wild turkeys to emulate their courage, their willingness to persevere in the face of impossible odds. I need to stay grounded in my own truths, but I also need to learn how to take flight. Not in denial but to protect myself from overwhelming despair. I have learned from the animals that live around me what living in community really means, just as I have learned directly from Indigenous peoples who still demonstrate the values of genuine community for love support and protection like turkeys do.

It’s no surprise that turkeys, like all non – human relatives are honored by Indigenous Peoples throughout the continent. Turkeys are native to the Americas. Here in Maine the Passamaquoddy wear ornate headdresses, in New Mexico the Tewa woman carry turkey fans, wear feathers in their hair. In Arizona the Zuni, Yaqui, Navajo do the same. Turkeys are valued in every Indigenous community that I am familiar with. During the Tewa dances the female children hold those precious feathers close. To ‘become turkey’ is to live on solid ground, yet be able to take flight, primarily for protection but also for comfort and peace. Yet one more ‘Both And’.

Turkeys were not eaten until about 1000AD when other foods became scarce. Now some tribes practice domesticated turkey husbandry. Others do not. But either way turkeys, like all other animals are considered sacred, regardless of whether or not they are eaten, kept for feathers, or as animal companions. I use the word ‘sacred’ to denote the sanctity that surrounds the respectful and loving relationships that Indigenous peoples have with their turkeys because these people see them as beloved relatives. And teachers. Until recently no distinction was ever made between the so called ‘spiritual’ aspect of an animal and that animal’s ‘body’. The two were one.  This splitting is a western concept that Native peoples do not adhere to even today unless they have succumbed to western corruption.

 Like the turkeys around my house, I need to stay awake, to remain grounded in what is, because I am facing the unknown and experiencing terror like most of us (if we are embodied). The future looks grim. The direction I need to be going towards is one where genuine community is practiced with other people but wherever I look I see isolated groups of ‘spiritual seekers,’ or some aspect of the reverse, the bullies, ‘the fighters,’ the liars, the deniers (all patriarchal concepts) AI (Apparently, I was taken in). Isolation is legion.

 My point is that we all need to put away our armor and figure out how to create genuine inclusive community, but first the concept must exist as a form of embodiment. And this is where I am stuck. I am clear about the direction but have no sense of how to manifest this reality.

So, I am left sitting with the question. How do I help create that bridge? Janet Rudolph mentioned that we wouldn’t be the first people to go underground to support each other and she has made an excellent point. Perhaps this is a beginning. But to reverse the trajectory we are on is another matter.

I envy the turkeys. But envy isn’t the right word. I want the wild turkeys to have everything they need. I just wish I could live like they do with others who are capable of being supportive, like minded or not. Is this even possible today with humans?

 Patriarchy is a kind of poison that has infiltrated every aspect of our lives. First on the agenda from my point of view is asking how this poison is working in ourselves.