I wish the quiet heart – March 2022

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

 

I wish the quiet heart.

Forced to choose a separate world

I crawl in order to stand alone.

I wish the quiet heart.

An exile from my borrowed land

I search for a place to call home.

I wish the quiet heart.

I wish the quiet land.

All around me quiet.

All around me peaceful.

All around me lasting.

All around me home.

The Breath of Fire – February 2022

From Sacred Fire, 1998, by Nancy Wood

 

The sacred mountains call to me when life becomes

too hard to bear

and all that stands between me and despair is

a little waterfall. With each mile I climb,

my sadness melts away

and I feel my old self returning.

The sacred mountains cure my anger

and replenish my will to resist

those who would diminish me.

 

In wildness, I am made whole by beauty.

In wildness, I am humbled by majesty.

In wildness, I am content to find

eternity in a buttercup

and courage in a drop of rain.

Things that remember themselves – January 2022

From Dancing Moons, 1995, by Nancy Wood

 

Things that remember themselves

are not forgotten, but rise on wings

of experience and paint our minds

with the visions of our ancestors.

 

Things that remember themselves are pictures

without form and words without a tongue.

They give meaning to what we thought

we had forgotten in our youth.

 

Things that remember themselves give light

to the uncertain paths we used to take,

bringing beauty to the house

of our ripening old age.

 

I give to you this life – December 2021

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

 

I give to you this life

which is not the only life I have.

I am the forest living and dying.

I am the melancholy of falling leaves.

I am eternity in green.

I am water flowing strongly

Not in the lifetime of one man only

But down the rocks of generation

Across old deserts of humiliation

I run in anticipation toward the sea.

I give to you this life

which is the outer garment only.

I have clothed myself in riches

Sewn by hands in praise of home.

I am made of pollen and wings and bone.

I am wind reflected in moonlight.

I am ice crying out for food.

I am fire embedded in stone.

I am fields released by sun.

I give to you this life

claimed by what I do not own.

 

How the Universe Doubled – November 2021

FromĀ Sacred Fire, 1998, by Nancy Wood

 

The doubling of the Universe took place when people

were sleeping, except for a few old women

who remembered how passion was created

to save the world from boredom. In dresses

made of spiderwebs, those old women

 

Sang a love song, heard from star to star and tree to tree,

even from fish to fish and blossom to bee.

Those who were in tune with one another

responded, and those who were not

slept their lives away. As the old women

 

Watched, the heat of love expanded, on and on, with colors

so bright they singed the edge of indifference

in one night. The Universe doubled

with the passion of those old women,

who believed the power of their feminine selves

would overcome

the doubtful hearts of men.