Meditation at the Church of Earth

Begin at the highest summit and think downward.

Above: light to dark and back. Within you, your animal-sized land

and sea. Life moves in your body in sentient streams.

 

Thank each plant for the treasure of oxygen.  Feel

the gifts of plants in the yielding corners of your lungs.

Thank each animal for the lessons it teaches.

Remember wildness rocking in the soul of the tamed.

Ease your attention to the workings of your heart.

Red springs of life-force whip through your blood;

you recognize life as belonging to all who inherit its alchemy.

Invisible birds move in your body carrying in their beaks

strands of connection between all things that cannot be cut.

 

Your feet send movable roots into the ground everywhere you step.

Down through each layer of the planet, time’s signature speaks.

You enter the ultimate deepness in Earth’s core, the bass roar of magma

shifting like a fiery herd of mastodons.

 

You know yourself to be as fragile as a filament of silk.

 

Jennifer Pratt-Walter, © 2024

The All-Miracle Church of Earth

 In our curve of time the framework of Love

is still being dreamt open –

Love seeps and strokes into the wounds of the spirit

like silk blessing the first leaf born of the first bud,

unrolled atop the first root, enshrined from the first Source.

 

Beloved ones precious as air lace our seconds and days together,

a vivid shawl sewn in the cadence of our kaleidoscope souls.

 

The slow streams preach their smooth water-truths,

the snow is its refrain: “Shhh love now, shhh love often”

they whisper to us like salamanders in the shape-shift moments.

 

Love weaves through the gills of our being

alive together on this All-Miracle Church of Earth,

of everything hallowed, brokenly true,

of all things Yes, igniting us while capturing fallen sparks

chimed from the ecstatic tongues of stars.

  

 J. Pratt-Walter, © 2021

To Mother Earth, Alleluia

Dear Mother Earth

Someday our souls will slip from life

like water off a swan

and I say Alleluia.

They say this is your day,

Earth Day

but I know each moment,

they all belong to you

and I say Alleluia.

Oh Earth, I feel the sharp song

of our connection. I feel

the spear of your heartache

and hurt, I feel green everything,

green-blue, green-gold, green-black.

Everything is alive all in

a tumble of miracles

and I say Alleluia.

And now, Holy Earth,

I see it:  our ways must cease.

We must surrender, closing eyes

and giving breath over to you,

always only you

and I say Alleluia.

J. Pratt-Walter, (c) 4/22/2020

50^th Anniversary of Earth Day

Becoming the Crone

 Finally!  I ascend to my Cronehood.

I proudly wear a silver crown in the lights

of my hair.

I claim the armrest on the airplane.

I allow my belly to flow without shapers

or cinch.

I let my hardworking breasts roll without bras

or shame.

I am retired from heels, mascara, hair dye,

wrinkle cream and diets.

I can wear white pants all month.

I don’t have to fuck anyone.

I call bullshit on political deviance, cruelty and

shameless self-promotion.

I will speak out against patriarchy’s tyranny,

even when you don’t want to hear it.

I will point out your gaslighting, greed

and arrogance.

Hecate is my sister.

I notice the small overlooked things.

I am in love with the lines mapping my face.

I bless Nature and Mother Earth, for we are family

and peers.

My dreams can run faster than your excuses,

your hate, your oppression.

I am an army of one.  I hold superpowers

you can only guess at.

This Crone is a volcano, a sacred well, the braying wind

and a kind harbor for all manner of love.

Jennifer Pratt-Walter

(c) 2019

Cloud-Fall

Every lining

has a silver cloud.

Into every rain

a life must fall.

Not all

who are lost wander.

I can write

the reading on the wall.

J. Pratt-Walter, © 4/7/2019

NaPoWriMo day 7