As strange as it may sound, it was in the fall and winter that I felt closest to my tree. Her spring beauty and summer fruit filled me with delight, but when the days began to grow cool and the leaves turned from darkest green to yellow, I could feel something deep and marvelously intimate begin to take place between us. And as fall turned to winter, this feeling of intimacy grew. With no bees humming among the blossoms, no birds fluttering from limb to limb, no leaves and cherries decorating her branches, my tree seemed to reveal herself to me in her purest form -- in her very essence. And when I embraced her and pressed my ear against her trunk, I could hear the silence that united us. And I knew that was sacred. (Choqosh Auh-Ho-Ho)
~ from THE FEMININE FACE OF GOD by Sherry Ruth Anderson & Patricia Hopkins
O Great, Holy Spirit, I take this step into the day you have
given...I hold all those I will meet today, in my journeying and in
my work. I try to walk gently on this earth. Let me walk gently
through the lives of my work companions and friends. Though
they make way for my passing, may they spring back, neither
broken nor bruised.
~ from the Plains tribes, "The Way of Three Steps", recorded by Jose Hobday in WOMAN PRAYERS by Mary Ford-Grabowsky
One day when Francis was walking in the woods, he was so filled with delight at the beauty of the world that he wished to express his gratitude with music. He had no violin, so he picked up two sticks and began to play. Birds sang and animals came out and danced. Far-fetched, you say? Perhaps only those who believe that animals dance can hear the violin music of two twigs.
