Sustenance

Recently, a wise woman I know was talking about the earth: how we are the earth and yet are poisoning it. About how confusing and heartbreaking that is.

I cannot stop reflecting on that. This poem reminds me of my own connection to Mother Earth, one that I have come to cherish, but being an urban dweller, I can often “forget.”

I needed this poem today. (Some days are rougher than others.) Maybe you do too.

“And the Great Mother said:

Come my child and give me all that you are.

I am not afraid of your strength and darkness, of your fear and pain.

Give me your tears. They will be my rushing rivers and roaring oceans.

Give me your rage. It will erupt into my molten volcanoes and rolling thunder.

Give me your tired spirit. I will lay it to rest in my soft meadows.

Give me your hopes and dreams. I will plant a field of sunflowers and arch rainbows in the sky.

You are not too much for me. My arms and heart welcome your true fullness.

There is room in my world for all of you, all that you are.

I will cradle you in the boughs of my ancient redwoods and the valleys of my gentle rolling hills.

My soft winds will sing you lullabies and soothe your burdened heart.

Release your deep pain.

You are not alone and you have never been alone.”

~Linda Reuther, Homecoming