Joined – December 2019

From Shaman’s Circle, 1996, by Nancy Wood

 

Our connection to nature is nothing more

than a deep conversation,

like that between two related stones or trees,

an expanding bond of kinship

that sharpens perceptions and catches

sunlight devouring ice on streams,

a refrain of winter’s resistance

To the unconditional surrender of spring.

 

Who knows the meaning behind a conversation

between two partners of the soul,

so perfectly joined that they seem as natural

as veins on leaves? Our connection

to nature is a magical cord that offers solace,

granting us witness to the birth of stars.

Woman-Heart Spirit – November 2019

From Dancing Moons, 1995, by Nancy Wood

 

The woman-heart spirit was released by the Creator

a long time ago in order to nurture children,

animals and plants, trees and rocks, and also

men, who resisted the softening of their wild nature.

 

The woman-heart spirit roamed the deserts and the mountains

looking for ways to create awareness,

the food the earth needed for survival,

and the recognition of beauty in the land.

 

The woman-heart spirit was wild, untamed

like the river and the wind

who taught her knowledge of a certain kind,

different from the knowledge of men or children.

 

The woman-heart spirit became the guardian

of language and music and the stories

needed by birds and animals and people, as

the world changed and imagination dried up.

 

The woman-heart spirit became the keeper of compassion,

strong yet invisible, the connection between

all living things. The woman-heart spirit

is nothing more than love, overlooked when the world began.

I remember you when – October 2019

From Many Winters, 1974, by Nancy Wood

 

I remember you when

The tame rose sleeps

Between the jaws of winter.

I remember you when

The humming insects mother

The newborn leaves of spring.

I remember you when

The argument of frogs becomes

The laughing song of summer.

I remember you when

I hear my corn begin to grow

And beauty crowds my life.

Who speaks for animals who cannot talk? – September 2019

From War Cry on a Prayer Feather, 1979, by Nancy Wood

 

Who speaks for animals who cannot talk?

Who sees for flowers which are blind?

Who guards the river which has but one course?

Who represents the mountain in time?

Who comes here to argue for the life of beavers?

Who will tell of the importance of snails?

Who has seen the mantis shed his skin?

Who believes in butterfly wings?

I am nature’s advocate

Ten million birds

Ten million trees

Ten million animals

Ten million fish

Are mine.

I will fight you in this room

And out of it.

I will dare you to define

Progress

On the face of a dime.

Looking at Mountains – August 2019

From Dancing Moons, 1995, by Nancy Wood

 

Mountains that are looked at have a particular grace,

some are rounded and gentle, others have a wildness

of spirit, the sharp rock face of invincibility.

Still others beckon with deceptive calm, luring the unwary

with their raw beauty, heads buried in clouds, sunlight

dancing on meadows like sky fingers. The great rock god

Of the mountains sleeps with one eye open to catch eagles

and elk, wind and rainbows, the strong of limb who climb

those peaks because a mountain lives inside them.

 

Mountains that are looked at look back with the pleasure

of old women locked in the gaze of new admirers,

so glad for attention, so wary of strangers. Mountains

That are looked at increase in beauty from so much looking

and live on in memory long after we are gone from them,

remembering the hint of immortality there and the way

We were possessed by rock. Mountains that are looked at

look back with authority and the promise of tomorrow,

which is why some people die for them.