Category: Animals and the earth


 

 

Cover-Vol3-The East

 

By Laura J. Merrill

 

Readers of Sharon St Joan’s blog site, “Echoes in the Mist” (recently changed from “Voices-and-Visions”), will be familiar with her ethereal poems, which have always resonated with me as a view into the sacred soul of Nature.

 

Over the last two years, Sharon has graciously devoted some of her time and creative talent to composing twelve poems for the latest volume of Secret Voices from the Forest—Thoughts and Dreams of North American Trees.

 

Volume Three: The East, in which you will find her verses, concerns a few of the trees native to the eastern part of this continent—from the Mississippi River to the Atlantic Ocean—some well known and some quite uncommon, and some wholly unique to this continent, although not necessarily familiar to all of us; examples are Sugar maple, American chestnut, Pawpaw and Tulip Tree.

 

These brightly illustrated volumes familiarize us with each tree, utilizing facts about it and its native surroundings, as well as a few particulars about some of the animals and other plants that share its environment. At the same time, each tree is given a chance to “speak for itself,” in a section titled, “Reflections,” in which we can imagine how the tree might see its place in the world and how it may view us, as fellow travelers on the Earth.
In the world of books about nature, these publications are distinctive, blending fact and fantasy for adults who are willing to consider the idea that we are all equal participants in the great work of Creation.

 

You can find this, as well as the first two volumes, The West and Midcontinent, on Amazon at this link.

 

Enjoy!

The Rain

113186375 Michael Chatt : dreamstime.com

 

In a portent of misted beauty

 

The rain-wandering hawk

 

Awakens

 

The sleeping

 

Mother of the mountains

 

To ring the standing

 

Bowls of silence

 

There since

 

Before the wings of time took flight,

 

And in ringing, to empower

 

The wild places;

 

The trees, her children,

 

Blossom gold;

 

Bumblebees run races,

 

The stars sail

 

Their tall wooden ships

 

On the bobbing waves of the black, deep sea.

 

Will the antlered elk remain,

 

Even then,

 

Along with the swift falcon,

 

And the barred geese

 

Who rode so bravely

 

Near the fierce night

 

Of the wrath of the wind

 

And biting hail

 

Where the embattled sky

 

Flashed

 

White, unpinned,

 

And armies of air

 

Clashed

 

From outcrop to rocky hill

 

Echoing

 

Echoing

 

Where the old owl blinks?

 

In the aftermath, gray-gowned, shy

 

Rain beings fly by

 

On blue

 

Petals;

 

The band of geese settles

 

On the lapping lake, recalling

 

All the stone-stepped eons told

 

In the unfolding stories – or a leaf-borne tale

 

By the rocks that talk,

 

Voices of the dark red canyons,

 

Of the grass and plants, wind-whispering

 

Of the juniper-guardians

 

Of the all-knowing bear,

 

Of the small-footed mouse, smiling and meek,

 

And the so determined ants.

 

There the rattlesnake slinks.

 

Now only the wise ones who

 

Know the starry ways, by most forgotten,

 

Who tend the earth, will gather

 

Again,

 

Their songs to sing

 

Like the soaring sea,

 

In the bright land of the moon –

 

Gentle as the rain that drips

 

Among the sleeping flowers

 

Of the stars. Now all is connected in these most final holy

 

Hours

 

As it was before the beginning,

 

One in many,

 

Many in one,

 

And if we train

 

Our attention for a moment,

 

Soon,

 

As the gale is done,

 

We will

 

Find the one we seek

 

Standing by the silver tree,

 

Near the old

 

Railed fence

 

Speckled in sunlight.

 

Hear beyond the rivers’ torrent

 

The chant of Om,

 

The lost bells of home.

 

Thank you, blessed rain.

 

Thank you, Parvathi,

 

Ever there, peace

 

Falling

 

On the star-clad mountain peak.

 

 © Sharon St Joan, 2018

Photo: 113186375 © Michael Chatt / dreamstime.com

Wolf

119453623 © Olga Konstantinova | Dreamstime.com

 

At the far rim of reality

 

Stands the wolf, unknown,

 

Archetype enchanting, ancient spirit,

 

King of his noble kind

 

Who pauses, glancing,

 

Father of the early forest,

 

Alien to the modern world-mind

 

That has been spawned and grown

 

Up from death,

 

From the killing of the magical ones,

 

Hence have arisen

 

All the dank drafts that dally through the restless cage

 

Of hell.

 

Yet the wolf remains

 

Beyond the brittle bell

 

That sounds this bleary

 

Age,

 

Watching,

 

More real than life or death,

 

Than the scurrying days that flit

 

On by like dry falling

 

Leaves

 

Blown

 

Across the desert floor

 

Bare and stark,

 

While the wolf stands still – eternal breath,

 

Blessed being,

 

Beyond the reach of the gray

 

Murmuring minions

 

That practice dark deceit.

 

Yet now their dreary

 

Presence wanes,

 

Soon, gone will they be,

 

There no more,

 

Caught up in the fleet

 

Fires of the ending day,

 

And still the wolf stands,

 

Aloof,

 

Poised to restore his lost domain,

 

Eternal god, under the blue eaves

 

Of the sky, on green woodlands,

 

He who ever was, and is, and is to be,

 

In the tall, sun-winged forest,

 

Ringed all around in rising mist

 

And radiant rains.

 

 

© Sharon St Joan, 2018

 

 

Photo: 119453623 © Olga Konstantinova / Dreamstime.com

 

 

 

dreamstime_xs_122429856

 

Do you know the way

That leads to the stream

In the early morning,

Where spotted fawns

Run,

Letting shining droplets fall

From their silver hooves

Like the last shreds of moonlight,

While the owl in the wild oak

Tree shuts her feathered eyes to sleep

At dawn, opening the door of the dream

To a universe of wonder,

In the star-bespeckled sky?

Or else, maybe you might know the way

To where the bright

Grass bends in the cold north wind

And the bison

Rumble by

On nimble feet

Across the wide, flat

Plain, and there

The wolves

Forever run

To greet

The spiraling snow on a white and wintry day?

Or perhaps you might even know

The way to the deep

Sheltering forest where the bear

Waits out with her cubs the hours

Of the squall,

Of crackling thunder

Near the hillside of peace where wildflowers

Cast in a trance

The bumblebee,

And the clay

By the riverbank holds up the saplings,

While dragonflies flit

And execute their wise dance

Of joy?

You see we were looking for the way out –

Out from the cinders swirling,

Out from the center, come all unpinned,

From the ashes of history gone awry

That prophetic ravens rue,

From the sting

Of bitter smoke,

Out into the clear sun-

Begotten waterfall that

Shimmers all the way

Down on to the rocks

Of granite

On to the foundation blocks

Where all the worlds begin anew?

Where is the way,

Narayana,

You who ever walked as a young boy

On the wandering waves of the eternal sea,

In the star-born mists of all the dawns

That ever were or are to be?

Where is the way,

Narayana,

Where is the way

To find the light of your lands

That sing the song of the soul in the sounding sea?

 

 

©Sharon St Joan, 2018

Photo: ID 122429856© Syberyjczyk/ Dreamstime.com

 

edited,ID 71782566 © Juliscalzi | dreamstime_xs_71782566

 

Garuda,

 

How

 

Do you fly

 

On swift, gold wings,

 

Not having any answers?

 

You live in peace, always, among

 

The saffron petals, beyond the crowded questions

 

Sailing through all the mist-

 

Driven worlds sung

 

By the ancient forest,

 

Abode

 

Of stars and falcons,

 

Near the clear, deep-canyoned waters

 

Where step the blue-toed cranes,

 

Where ran

 

The wind in wild-haired leaves of the cottonwood tree.

 

You are the heart given by eternity.

 

Within, you bear the spirit of God.

 

You are the dawn, the sky

 

That rained,

 

The dream-walking dragonflies that nod,

 

And the speaking of the mountains that rose up and waned

 

Before ever time began,

 

You who carry

 

The sacred essence of all things

 

In the clouds that tarry,

 

In the flashing lights of the moon and the bright summer rains,

 

Garuda, you who are wandering ever, even now,

 

On your wings of wind-swept beauty.

 

 

 

© Sharon St Joan, 2018

 

Photo: Juliscalzi | dreamstime.com

 

 

Hinduism and Nature - release of book

robertscribbler

Have solar panel, will travel.

That appears to be the motto of the insurgent globe-spanning renewable energy economy which China is now investing hundreds of billions to develop. For what we’re now beholden to is an economic powerhouse using both its massive capital and its ability to produce inexpensive clean energy systems to spread influence across the world.

(Solar boat diplomacy. China is using its massive financial power base along with its forward-looking clean tech clout to spread its influence across the globe. Meanwhile, the U.S. under Trump remains mired in the dirty energy systems and harmful related politics of the past. Image source: Phys.org.)

As the U.S. under Trump and Republicans withdraws from the world, as it enters a form of  jingoistic protectionism, and as it alienates allies, abandons business opportunities, as it turns a cold shoulder to territories like Puerto Rico — China is making global in-roads…

View original post 893 more words

 

 

 

ID 4545510 © Dbpetersen | Dreamstime

 

Listen, and hear

 

Within the moon the silent flight

 

Of white

 

Crane

 

Feathers,

 

While stars ring like bells in a sky of snow.

 

Did you know

 

That the moon is hollow

 

And it chimes?

 

Now, past clouds of bitter rain,

 

Of weathers

 

Sullen in the jagged wind,

 

At a sharp bend in the long road,

 

Shines the light of butterfilies beyond the shards of the dark,

 

The spark

 

Of grace, as yet unimagined,

 

A hand of tree bark

 

Offers peace, abhaya mudra: “Fear

 

Not,” a message,

 

Seek and ye

 

Shall find

 

All truth

 

Within the call

 

Of the star, cloaked in a misted shawl.

 

Soon, between the bones of yesteryear

 

Rise the rushing waters to the ridge

 

Of ending times.

 

There at the top of the narrow stair

 

Opens the rock-enchanted desert that will echo eternity,

 

Shimmering stones,

 

Who

 

Sing that the shadow

 

Has gone, though it is not that the shadow

 

Has gone, but just that the sun is real and the shadow not, after all,

 

And so

 

The holy one, unknown, will walk again on the straight path,

 

Will hold the innocent deer high in his hand

 

(In the land

 

Of the gold dragon who gnashes

 

Her emerald jaw,

 

Extending her five-toed

 

Paw)

 

There the brave one walks, placing the sun anew,

 

Engulfing the burning cities of the mind,

 

And – casting death at last behind,

 

Cleanses the earth of ashes.

 

 

Poem: © Sharon St Joan, 2017

Photo: © Dbpetersen | Dreamstime

 

 

 

1 TSUNAMI ONE EDITED

 

By Sharon St Joan

 

In 2004, on the day before Christmas, a catastrophe swept across the Indian Ocean, a tsunami that killed around 250,000 people. Countless animals also lost their lives.

 

Thanks to the immense dedication of animal groups in India and in other countries, thousands of animals were saved.

 

On December 26, 2004, four ambulances from Blue Cross of India headed south along the coast to save as many animals as they could. Each ambulance brought 2,000 liters of water and was equipped as a mobile vet clinic to treat injured animals in the devastated villages of the Kanchipuram, Cuddalore and Nagapattinam districts.

 

Public officials in these districts, Gagandeep Singh Bedi and J. Radhakrishnan, were grateful that someone was thinking of the animals, and they offered all the help they could. Mrs. Bhargavi Devendra, Honorary Secretary of the South India Red Cross instructed her chapters all along the coast to be on the lookout for animals in need of help. They did so, letting Blue Cross coordinator, Shanti Shankar – who during those hectic days lived and worked fulltime at the Blue Cross shelter – know where to pick up stranded animals – and in this way, rescue teams were able to reach thousands of cows, goats, chickens, and dogs.

 

People working with Red Cross and the Indian Bank opened their homes for Blue Cross rescuers to stay in and helped in many other ways.

 

Temporary fencing was set up for rescued cows near where they were found, and they were given food and water until their owners could come for them.

 

In the town of Vailankanni, right beyond the beautiful cathedral there, three one-week old puppies, their eyes still closed, were handed to a Blue Cross worker. Sadly, their mother, who had been tethered, did not survive, nor did their human family who had lived in a house quite close to the beach. The three puppies were swept inland on the waves, landing on top of a tall hedge and, amazingly, were still alive when a kind villager spotted them. He took care of them until Blue Cross rescuers arrived.

 

Dr. Chinny Krishna, one of the Founders of Blue Cross, recalls seeing the three tiny puppies right after they were turned over to Blue Cross in Vailankanni. A week later they had arrived back in Madras, and were taken first to the very large Blue Cross shelter. Because of the magnitude of the emergency, the shelter was at that time critically understaffed and overcrowded. So the three little puppies, who needed special feeding and care, were moved to Dr. Krishna’s factory, Aspick – a specialized factory with a global reputation. There, the three puppies were not alone, since Dr. Krishna has always invited street dogs to live on the grounds of his factory (his family house is also home to a dozen rescued dogs).

 

The three puppies were handfed by Mani, a longtime employee, and the other factory workers, who all love the dogs.

 

Two of the puppies were quickly adopted by Mr. Shashi Nair, then Editor of the magazine Buisness Line.

 

That left one puppy who the factory workers called Tsunami. Her name stuck and she grew up in the factory – much loved and well cared for. In fact, she ran the factory, or at least the dog brigade. She was the alpha dog of the whole team and kept everyone in line.

 

3 Tsunami and friend

 

Now, thirteen years later, Tsunami has slowed down a bit. Having stepped down from her post as alpha dog – another dog is now in charge – Tsunami enjoys napping a bit more – sometimes .

 

Tsunami’s eyesight isn’t quite as good as it was, but her hearing seems fine. She’s had a tumor on her chest that’s been treated twice, but she seems to be doing okay. She spends time hanging out with Tyag, the CEO of one of the group companies of Aspick.

 

A lot of her time is spent inside in the conference room – attending important meetings. At noon, she joins the workers for lunch, and then goes up to Dr. Krishna’s office to have a chapatti (Indian bread).

 

Her job now is giving a happy greeting to all the factory visitors – and at night, she still keeps a protective, wary eye out for any intruders who shouldn’t be there.

 

Soon, Tsunami will need a bit more shelter and some extra care, so Blue Cross is building her a house at their big shelter at Guindy. There she’ll have lots of company – community dogs who live on the streets can live a long time, and there are others who need a house too, as they slow down and get a bit older. (Blue Cross has run a spay-neuter program for street dogs – the oldest such continuing program in the world – since 1964.)

 

Tsunami is looking forward to a lot of delightful naps in the shade during her retirement.

 

To help give Tsunami and her friends their new house, click here to donate!

 

Tsunami and her friends will send you lots of grateful hugs!

 

Many thanks!

 

Photos:

Top photo: Tsunami

Second photo: Tsunami with a friend

© text and photos, Sharon St Joan, 2017

 

 

 

Mahadeva

© Jsuspence7cc | Dreamstime

 

Ender of worlds, you who are

 

The moon-winged light

 

Glimpsed through silver clouds that recall only

 

The music

 

Of the rain

 

That hums

 

On the dry branches of the scrub oak,

 

You who are the soul

 

Of the juniper trees and the wind-waving sage,

 

Re-awaken now your lands of magic,

 

And so,

 

Unmask the deeper, greener forest

 

Of long ago,

 

Abode of the forgotten fairy folk.

 

Young Ganesha watches from among the red-encircled blossoms

 

To hear anew

 

The clear

 

Ringing chimes

 

Sound, that the dust of a crumbled age

 

Is gone,

 

Swept away and cast

 

Asunder

 

On the gusts of the great

 

Gale,

 

That peace may settle ever after

 

On the blue-

 

Belled petals

 

That gather in an opalescent bowl,

 

A glimmering, crystal grail,

 

Far

 

Beyond where the ragged hulls of iron ships

 

Were set adrift on a tired sea.

 

Soon the haloed star

 

May bless the night,

 

And the coyote

 

Sing her laughing song again

 

In the darkness, beside the shimmering gate

 

Of a time beyond times

 

When

 

At last

 

The long-toed crane

 

Dips his beak

 

Into the cold waters of the creek.

 

Then,

 

Mahadeva, Shining One, Dispeller of fear,

 

May the swans, who know, and have always known, all things, sail

 

Ever near

 

Before the bright, sky-clad boat of the dawn

 

Climbs

 

On through the echoing waters of a many lilied mist.

 

© Sharon St Joan, August 2017

Photo: © Jsuspence7cc | Dreamstime