May 2021 bring renewal and blessings to the earth – to the mountains, the forests, to the air and the oceans, the animals, the plants, and to all people – with a new vision and a new perspective!
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Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas!
Wishing everyone a happy and stress-free day! May we take a moment to be grateful and count the blessings in our lives! May we remember to be kind and to focus our thoughts on light and blessings for the earth and for all her creatures. May all the animals be blessed with peace and well-being, as well as all the plants, the trees, and all the features of the earth – the rivers, the oceans, the forests, the deserts, the rocks, the mountains, and the clouds in the sky. All are expressions of the life of the universe — not inanimate objects, but expressions of cosmic awareness and transcendent beauty, which we too are a part of.
Peace and many blessings,
Sharon
Beyond the gray doorway
The snow waits and listens,
While wolves tilt their ears,
Waiting too,
Till voices sing,
Voices of the angels,
Who, some say,
Do not exist,
But who – nonetheless –
Are more real than we, than me;
For they are Your beings,
Dragons of kindness,
Fierce winds of power,
That hold back the tumult of chaos
Til storms still and furies cease,
Til destiny shelves
The stealing shadow
Into the fading abyss
Of nevermore,
Thereby dispelling fear,
Then, while a silent, silver snow
Alights
And slips among the junipers,
Footsteps unseen
Lead the way
Along the jagged cliff face,
That winds on and on to the valley
Of peace,
To a far country,
To Your ever-sacred path,
To Your forest
Of the peepal tree,
Where the magic fawn
Awakens,
Child of enchanted herds,
There
Rise the flowering birds,
Beyond, in flight,
That call
In the dawn,
In the trailing mist
Of lace,
On wings of blue
And green,
With Your voice of light,
Beyond the star-ringed tower,
Clear,
Ascending,
While not so far away,
The waves fall
Against all
The rain-rift standing rocks of the immortal sea.
Written December 17, 2020
© Sharon St Joan, 2020
Beside the stones,
The rain
Intones
The song of the evening star;
There lies the derailed car
Of arrogance
Fallen, still
In the hour of reckoning.
Mother of the Rising Light
Not far away,
As they were wont to say,
But near,
As the breath of moonbeams. On the horizon
Of unmarked time, the stray
And wayward galaxy,
By a kind fate,
Has escaped the dreary, dismal chain
Of bondage,
That lurks at the sharp edge
Of being.
Every light,
Every shining.
Here the beginning
And the ending
And the beginning anew;
Here the enduring flame,
The bells of Shiva
That ring long
In the never-ending
Standing
In cool water where
The summer crane
Slowly goes,
At ease
Among the lilies,
And, on high, the hawk will view
The Himalayan snows.
Abaya mudra,
Fear not.
Though the wraith
Of this current world feeds only
On lies,
Deception,
And distain,
Across the unwise
Plot
Of terror,
With no faith
And, seeking stolen redemption,
Finds bitter loss.
But look to the spring sleet
Shimmering on the raven’s wing.
See the unseeable, cloaked in mist;
Now how to remember to walk through
The fires
Of truth and through
The spires
Of nevermore
On feet
Impelled by grace.
Atman
By the fence post of wood
By the boundary
By the old, unpainted gate,
Stood
Waiting.
No time, no space.
You know they covered over
Gobekli Tepe
To prevent a desecration
Of the Holy Light
That never dims,
That is known by no name.
Grace
Of the One,
The Green Heart of the forest, deepening,
The One who spoke earlier,
In the still air,
Or,
In clouds rent
By winds that toss
The tree limbs
Of the dawn that awoke — though not yet.
The silver-sailing moon knows
The primeval bones
That hid
An intent,
Unbidden, but not unwise,
Bones that slumber
In the rustling sighs under the leaves on the floor
Of the grove,
Buried, but not forgotten,
Silent,
Sacred.
And now – after a time, with the passing
Of the sunset
Beyond the darkened road,
Scarred and malevolent,
All is changed, rising,
When the geese
Fly
Anew,
Bright-
Winged, here
By the bent
Hill
Of the green-toed
Mountain of peace,
Sent,
Just there
In the sparkle
Of the dew
To awaken.
Listen
Hear only the bells of Shiva
In the silence
Beyond the dissonance
Of this world, only the bells of Shiva
Ringing in the ever-drifting rain,
Singing.
Written in the spring of 2020.
© Sharon St Joan, 2020
On a half-lit day
Rain-rent
And clouded
The raven sipped the gray
And bitter brew
Of the sacred yew
And walked alone –
Where
No one could tell –
In a country no one knows
His footfall
Made no sound
On the hollowed ground
In mist
Enshrouded
There he went
Until the sun
Tossed her gold net
Of flowers
Around
The crystal goblet
In the cathedral
Of enchanted hours
By the tall forest
And tolled the bell
Of rainbows.
Written around 2003
© Sharon St Joan, 2020
Photo 4888 © Denise Mcquillen | Dreamstime.com
In the forest
Of tigers
Moonlight tumbles across
The enchanted lake.
Death and life pinned
In the tiger’s paws
In her jaws,
In her wide, clawed feet.
The silent
Shadow that can never be understood
Stirred
In the tree
In the murmuring wood.
Ancient beings walk free
In their domain
Awake
In the pounding rain
Until the sun returns, majestic one,
In the living flowers
Of the earth,
Or in the thick mist
Clasped by the mountain
In the wind of time.
Yet,
Even the dissonant
Dust
Of gray, pedestrian powers
Seeps into the furrow
Of being
Deluding perception, inflicting loss,
Eclipsing
Reality
With soul-bending lies that deny
The great ones,
That bring about death and distrust.
Yet,
In the end,
May the dust be as it is meant to be,
Footfalls of the tiger go
Undeterred
In the bells of sunset
Until truth turns and the moon rises in another far-off clime
In a brighter, radiant night
In the light
Of Shiva’s trident
In the sky.
By Sharon St Joan
© Sharon St Joan, 2020
Well, I can hear you thinking – What a silly question, of course, wildlife are important! They are sentient beings, beautiful animals that have feelings. Of course, they are important.
Most kind people who care about animals would reply this way. As for those who genuinely do not care, we lost them when they saw the title. So, this is for those who do care.
But let’s pause for a moment. Many of us, especially at the moment, are quite overwhelmed. If we are fortunate enough to have a relatively secure situation in life – if we have a job, if we are not lining up for a food bank, if we are not in a state of crisis – we may still either be afraid for the future or in a state of distress at the suffering of our fellow human beings. To some extent this is not new – it is worse now, but it is not new. Life has always had difficult times – for those who have a sick child, or elderly parents, or who are sick themselves – or who are struggling in any of many, many ways. And yes, absolutely, if we have a sick child, the child must come first, and we need to care for the child – or whoever else we may need to care for.
Too busy
Even in the best of times, many of us are just busy – really busy. We rush here. We rush there, and if we stop rushing, things fall behind and do not get done. So to stay on top of our situation, we need to take care of those immediate, insistent things that require our attention. No one is saying that we shouldn’t do this.
Some of us, perhaps most of us though, do have a little bit of leeway – there are the couple of hours in the evening we spend in front of the TV. There is some time here and some time there. There are days, weeks, months when there is no crisis – when we do have some time.
Priorities
And what are our priorities? In the past few years, statistically speaking, our priorities have been health care, national security, the economy, maybe climate change, social and racial justice – or stability, depending on how we look at the world. If we are asked if we care about wildlife, we say, yes, of course. But really, that’s not at the top of our list. Overwhelmingly, our concerns are human concerns. We care about ourselves and other people. Now, there’s nothing wrong with caring about other people. It’s a wonderful quality to have. It is essential. There is really in our country a state of vast social and racial injustice, and it is fundamentally important – and this moment in time is, we trust, a profound turning point for change.
But, then where are we with wildlife? We care about dogs, cats – sometimes we care about horses, or even elephants and tigers. Somewhere, somehow, the little songbirds, the dragonflies, the coyotes, the squirrels, and the bobcats just do not quite register in our consciousness. And their habitat – without which they cannot survive – even less.
Let me give a couple of examples based on real, factual situations. When there is a water shortage due to lack of rain, and there is a stream – a little stream – and a coal company wants to pollute the waters of the stream just a little bit more than it already does – first, when it appears that this might affect the town’s drinking water, there is huge concern – then, when it is understood, that, no, nobody is talking about drinking water, this would only affect the water way upstream, and any tiny bit of pollution would just be washed away naturally by the rain (forgetting conveniently that there is no rain), without affecting the water downstream (which doesn’t make sense, but nevermind), then, amazingly all concern vanishes – and the same people who were alarmed about their own drinking water, somehow can no long find the time to be interested in this situation. What about the deer, the ring-tailed cats, the badgers, the songbirds who also need to drink? Somehow, they are just not anywhere near the top of our list. They may take our attention for a moment, just a moment – then they are gone from our thoughts.
And what about climate change? For many of us this means our own clean air, our own clean water – it means kids not having asthma (which is absolutely important) – it means developing clean energy so that, whatever the future may bring, we will be able to drive our cars, heat and cool our homes, and live decent, comfortable lives. Yes, these things are important. We’re used to them and we would get frazzled (myself included!) if it were freezing in the winter and boiling hot in the summer. Really, are we giving a single thought to the plight of the birds for whom breathing adequately is even more necessary than it is for us? Have we noticed species after species of songbirds greatly diminished in numbers or gone altogether? Have we noticed that, without rain, there are no butterflies at all? And so few insects that insect-eating birds have nothing to eat? The answer is – no, we haven’t noticed. It’s not because we don’t care. If someone told us, we would care. We just literally haven’t noticed. For the vast majority of us, we simply do not see wildlife. Wildlife just do not appear on our radar screen.
So why does this matter? What difference does it make? And, yes, we don’t want to see wildlife suffer, but really we can’t spend our whole lives worrying about bobcats, let alone butterflies.
Why are wildlife important?
But there is one extremely relevant reason why wildlife are important – not just for their own sake, but for our sake as well – and this is the reason: Wildlife are the children of the earth. They are part of the earth. They may be invisible to us, but they are an essential part of the universe. As children of the earth, they, in a truly meaningful way, are life itself. Yes, we are all children of the earth – but to us as humans this is mostly an abstraction – a truth to be remembered only occasionally, if at all. But a wild being – a deer, a wolf, an eagle – is the earth – is part of the fabric of life. And when we deny life, deny nature, deny existence, and deny the universe, then we will soon be in trouble, just as we are now. When we alienate ourselves from the natural world – to the extreme extent that we no longer even think about the natural world, not even in passing, then we have climbed to the end of the tree branch, and we are about to saw off the branch on which we are sitting, thereby sending ourselves plummeting down to injury and death – and that is precisely where we are now. We have alienated ourselves from life.
Consequences?
The consequence of we, as the human race, alienating ourselves from life is this: We have become parasites – unthinking, unconscious parasites who are destroying life, and nature – maybe not intentionally, but sometimes just accidentally – unaware, unconcerned. And the only solution that will make the slightest difference, ultimately, is not the Paris climate accords, or the Clean Air Act or clean energy or any number of government meetings and agreements (which are not happening much, but even if they were, they would not reach the root of the problem). The root of the problem is our disassociation, our alienation from nature. This concept is woven into the fabric of western civilization – which is a topic for another time. But this is killing us. Alienation from nature is killing the source of our lives – the earth herself – who we, without even paying attention, have thoughtlessly and unconsciously – abandoned, neglected, ignored, and then slaughtered and destroyed. When we kill the earth, we kill ourselves.
The first thing we can do – is un-alienate ourselves. This may not save the planet. It is quite late for that and, until we can engage others, we are, by ourselves, just one person. Yet still we must start somewhere. We must shine a small light into the darkness. Not by feeling bad – feeling bad accomplishes nothing, but instead by re-connecting with nature. Just simply doing that.
Take a walk in the woods. If there are no woods because you are in a city, then go to a park, sit by a tree. No trees? Then go to a flower shop and smell the flowers. If nothing else, then watch the clouds overhead – watch the sunlight or the rain. Watch a pigeon fly through the air. Be thankful, be grateful, and acknowledge the reality that you and I are not superior beings at all. We are at one with the natural world, with the earth – and this will be a step. The first thing this will do is put us in touch, just a little bit, with the peace of the universe. And the second thing it will do, is create a little wave in the ether – a little life-giving wave that will help someone somewhere – another being – a fish in a river, a tree in a park, another human being – and by becoming part of the resurrection of life – we will have played some small part in renewing the earth – if not in this age, then in the age that is to come – building a bit of a bridge to a world of light.
I know this seems simplistic, and it is not a remedy meant for everyone – if it were, we would all already be doing this, and there would be no problem. But if we are to some extent, in touch with real reality, then this will not be incomprehensible to us. We will remember sometime in our life when we felt in contact with the earth, with a tree or a bird or a sunset, and we will understand that this is the point where we must begin – to be at one, once again, with the web of life that is the earth – that is our life and the life of the universe.
By Sharon St Joan
© Sharon St Joan, 2020
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In a meandering land of mystic moons,
At the waystation
Between the worlds — unremembered, translucent,
Walking, not yet understanding,
Beyond the shifting sand dunes.
At the crossroads by the river
Of fish glimmering, shimmering,
In a sliver
Of moonlight
Waits a boat of mist,
In a time that is no
Time,
In a place that is no place,
We walk before the dawn
In a land of gentle grace,
In a land of stars and mist,
As we climb a tilted rise,
There ahead a mountain looms alone,
Home of fir trees, of summer’s moss,
And winter’s cold,
Of crystal stone,
Eclipsed in silver wings of snow
Of thrice-weathered rocks,
Of beings old
Older than the earth – from long before,
Of grandfathers that go along on a bent cane,
In the time that never was – sure-footed, wise,
Beyond a fog-inducing year
Of history
Come unpinned,
In a land that will wait,
Just past the wooden post of the gate,
There, where an angel’s footstep shone
On the dark
Valley floor – benevolent,
And be waiting, for the dawn that breaks,
Transcendent,
For the golden eagles to lift into the clear sun,
Once more,
Into the deep blue,
To fly,
To cry,
To lift their sky-
Engulfing intent
In awakening days
Of lakes
And the white, waving wildflowers,
The rose-enchanted nettles,
That sing songs of ancient powers
In the cool wind
Anew,
Where Kamakshi,
The black, opalescent one, ringed in every mystery,
She who is mother of the forest,
Of springing deer
And sparkling fawn,
Of flocks of horned lark,
Of the long-billed curlew
Who tiptoes across
The water’s edge then turns to glance
Again at the light-calling pinion jays,
While Kamakshi gathers up her winged petals
Of joy – anew,
Now to dance
In the bright-
Singing rain.
By Sharon St Joan
© Sharon St Joan, 2020
By Sharon St Joan
On a practical note – and unrelated to the thoughts below: I am no longer able (for purely technical reasons) to post reblogs on this site – either temporarily or maybe for quite a while. I’m quite sorry about this since many of them were beautiful glimpses of nature and very much worth reblogging. Thank you to all those who created them. In any case, I shall have to do a bit more writing myself in order to have something to post.
Today, the sad passing of Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg has left us as a nation teetering on a brink that we may not get past.
This compounds the sense of danger and a sense of impending doom that we may feel creeping here and there, through the shadows, that menaces our country and our future.
This morning I noticed that an acquaintance of mine had discontinued his blog. The other day, a friend mentioned that probably, this was all just a “blip in time” and that we would soon get past it – a thought that sounded optimistic, but that revealed an underlying sense of fear.
A black patch?
Some of us, for better or for worse, have learned to become quite good at escaping black patches of reality – at just skating away into a dreamland – but as one looks around it would be hard not to notice that others seem to be sinking fast into a certain black patch. So here are a couple of reflections that might help — a few tips just in case a black patch might be looming ahead.
There can be a growing sense of futility if we begin to wonder how it is possible to do anything positive in our own lives – when justice, at this moment in time, does not seem to prevail.
A conversation long ago
I have been recalling a lot lately a conversation that I had ten or twelve years ago with a friend who has done a great deal in his own life, especially in east Asia, but also in the rest of the world, for the cause of animals. He had gone on a solitary retreat to try to sort out his purpose in life. In a state of profound despair, he felt that the suffering of animals was so immense and overwhelming that nothing could help. After three days spent alone – I think on the top of a mountain – he came to the awareness that he would spend the rest of his life just helping when and where he could. He would never be able to help all animals. But he could alleviate the suffering of just one dog here and one cat there – just a few in one city — a few hundred in another city — and maybe also a squirrel or a bird in distress, along the way — and that this was worth doing and would be his purpose in life. He has done this since, and after that insight, he felt some clarity and peace.
A bridge to the future
To go back for a moment to Ruth Bader Ginsberg, a woman of extraordinary brilliance and accomplishments who has even bent the trajectory of history, she wrote many dissenting options for the Supreme Court. Interestingly, she said that she was, in some ways, most proud of her dissenting opinions. She did not regard these dissenting opinions as losses or defeats. Instead, she viewed them as possibilities for the future — as views whose time had not yet come, but that might pave the way for a changed and more just future, when others might come to agree and more enlightened action might be possible — in short, as a bridge to the future. Life is not static — there are highs and lows – positives and negatives – cycles. When we focus on windows for change – no matter how tiny these little windows may be, there can be momentum and ultimately, transformation.
Focusing on the immediate
It is good for us to value the work that we can do right now to help one animal, or one human being, or to plant one tree that may grow up in the sunlight. This is enough. It is enough because it is a beginning. Do not focus on the grand outcome. That is the responsibility of the universe. It is not your responsibility and not my responsibility. The universe will do what it does.
The yugas
According to The Hindu faith, there are four ages that cycle on, one after another. After the last age, the terrible time known as the Kali Yuga – then there will arise another age – the beginning one – of great vision and great insight, of love and compassion, of new life and energy. What we do now, even when it may be unseen or unacknowledged, can help build a bridge to that new age.
There is a great cycle of many yugas, following each other.
Let us focus, in the meantime (in this time of transitions and endings), on the good that we each can do — imparting peace to the earth, wherever and whenever we can – not wasting time on fear for the future or on regrets about the past — or, even worse – on blame and anger. Let us spend our days living in peace and imparting peace and reassurance to others — not just humans, but to animals and to trees and to the land of the earth as well.
One step, then another
Not all of us may be able to do much at his moment because truly there is a potential for very great catastrophe, and some may see that more clearly than others. If you find yourself caught in a moment of despair — just try to do one very small thing — extend a hand of kindness to someone — then later on to another and then to another — that will be a beginning. Water a flower or call a friend, or a stranger, or say a prayer.
Remember the Great Light of the Universe who enters the world and who makes the world out of Her (or His) own being – who takes on the mantle of time — who lives and dies and rises again, who is the heart of all faiths. (Yes, there is profound truth, even in Christianity. ) (There, now I have offended everyone – Christians, atheists, Moslems, everyone — oh, well, so be it.)
Let us carry a light each day — a beacon — big or small — a gift that comes to us from that Great Light from which all arises and to which – and to whom – all returns.
Bless you and
Namaste,
Sharon
By Sharon St Joan
Within the rose
Shining in the night,
A shimmering cloud
Grows,
Within the night
A crowd
Of trees walking,
Walking through bright
Hills of mist,
Back to the beginning
Again,
Back to the sacred – not forgotten – forest
Of rains and stars and winged beings,
Of boats that sail long in the rushing rivers of the skies.
There floats
Within the lake-enchanted eyes
Of the tiger;
In an ember of perception,
The presence
Of Durga,
Who holds up the resilient dagger
Of truth,
Imparting the courage
To be walking
Through fields of lilies,
On dimming days,
Through the magic of the gloam,
Guided by the long-known
Beings of light,
By the souls of the trees
Going home,
By the trees
That remember
Always.
In the night of the swan
Who knows
All things
Within the fire,
The river of eternity,
The beings walk on
Within the voice, lone, not far away,
Of the great-horned owl
Who calls,
In reply to the howl
Of the winds of the night,
And who guides lost feet
In the frost
Of winter’s time,
In the sleet,
In the snows,
In the reflection,
Dancing on the ice,
Breaking in the spring,
In the sound of the chime
Of the ancient day,
Returning.
The higher
Truth of the light
And the walking, not alone,
Where the souls of the trees
Breathe
In the holy darkness
And in the brightness
Of the day that is yet to be,
Shining.
© Sharon St Joan, 2020
Written August 28, 2020