When did the rains start?

photo of mountain with ice covered with black and gray cloud
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When did the rains start

Far up in the mountains of nevermore?

There where blue moths fly

In the diminishing light,

In the mists beyond the dappled hills.

Where then was the beginning?

With no

Beginning,

How could the soft trills

Of chickadees

Arrive at last at the end?

If they had flown forever

From an infinity inclining

Deep and deeper into the past,

They would never have arrived at all –

Would they –

In the juniper trees

In the mists of early winter?

How did the ancient cart

Roll over the ruts of Malta

And down into the sea

By the lingering shore?

And so,

You see,

It’s as clear as it can be

That time itself is impossible,

An illusion,

That cannot be –

A smoke before the dawn, curling in the valleys.

Why look for a mist-bearded authority

To explain the inexplicable?

It seems we have misunderstood the nature of reality.

It is only a dream,

Not a thing.

Just an ancient scheme,

A vision,

Only a shining gleam

Flickering on the outstretched wing

Of the young raven,

Maybe a statement,

An intent,

A strange or misbegotten level,

A stilted

Statue placed high up on a pedestal,

Or just a phantom fading in the shifting shadows of the night.

Well, long ago,

Once upon a time, a drifting fellow,

An odd king of sorts,

Stumbled through pale courts,

His lies

Stemming from cowardice and a banality of weakness –

He walked with his hat askew atop his head – tilted.

Then in a blink, all of time–that illusion,

Like the seared leaves of autumn – wilted

And fell apart.

Now look beyond the shifting dust,

Beyond the rust

Of nevermore –

There gleams ahead – past the tumbled gates of time that used to be –

A mystery,

In the God-given arc of awareness,

At the owl-bright break

Of day,

The white-crowned sparrow

Dips his gold beak into the swift-running creek.

The tree trunks are black in the dripping rain of dawn.

The snow has come and gone,

All gone away

In the skies

Now can you hear the call, the cries

Of the loons

From the quiet, clear, listening lake,

Just below the meandering moon’s

Journey,

Just quite near

The startling canyons of the sunrise?

© Copyright, Sharon St Joan, 2023

Wasteland Wakened~ —

The Sonoran Desert in Southern California, is bursting in bloom! Rains continue into May in the desert which is unheard of. Note the people midway up the mountain to give you perspective on the scope of of the superbloom which cover many mountains. Blooming Brittlebush carpet the foothills in vibrant yellow blankets. This bloom in…

Wasteland Wakened~ —

Shani

green trees near snow covered mountain
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Returning

To the land of drifting snow –

So

Many angels.

Black ravens circle

Above

The treetop,

Glinting green.

Dawn

Stars discern

A faint pathway

To river banks unseen.

Only divinity remains,

Only angels and singing bells,

In the gentle rains

Of spring.

Rocks washed, in the rolling

Dance

Of the unstoppable swells

Of the sea;

Tree shadows fade against the sky.

There is no one,

No one at all.

The tangles of time are all undone.

Only the lingering glance

Of eons sliding by,

Only the halo

Of the sacred night,

Only the peace of Eternity,

Only the startling snow,

Only the song of the swan

Has slipped away

Into the gray

Clouds of the pillars of the night,

Where the moon might

Sing,

The white-crowned sparrow

Hop,

And the magpie don

Her white robes, worn

In celebration

When the cosmic journey leads on and on

Through calming mists

Over miles of snow forests.

The one who waited to kill

The soul

No longer glimmers,

But is gone,

Into the night-waves of shadow.

Faded,

The bitter song – of illusion – was never sung –

The notes were never played,

But fell instead into the yawning gap of the abyss,

So the autumn leaves never cascaded

On to the burned embers of time, unborn

With the final hiss

Of the raindrop.

Now, at last, only

The brave, undaunted raven rises

Whose eyes

Glisten wise

In the snow-radiant dark.

Only the real one,

Who soars aloft, ever higher

Over the juniper tree.

Shani,

The first one,

The only one,

The God of myth

Who sparkles fire

As the bright

Truth

Of being,

Riding on the swift ark

Of the moon-crowned night.

© Copyright Sharon St Joan, 2023

You can see five planets align in the sky every night this week. — Natural History Wanderings

from NPR What to know: Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Mercury and Uranus will form an arch immediately after sunset. This happens every time the planets line up on one side of the sun — about once a year. How to watch: Four of the five planets should be visible with the naked eye beneath the moon. […]

You can see five planets align in the sky every night this week. — Natural History Wanderings

The Beauty of sleet

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Sleet falls in a sharp angle across the sky. The ground in just a few moments is covered in white – white that highlights the deep shadows of mystery within the waving sage brush.

The sleet turns to snow and rain. There is thunder too, deep, far away. Huge snowflakes billow down. The sage brush bounces, buffeted by the wind. This is the beauty of the universe.

If I were outside repairing the electric lines, or even just trying to get my car going — I would be saying, “Oh, what nasty weather!”

Somewhere the electricity repair person is hard at work, and for him or her, it is truly very nasty weather.

Inside, I am grateful for electricity and warmth and for the freedom to watch the beauty of the earth – where all is One – the falling snow, the rhythm of the seasons. And all is eternity – each snowflake and the ravens that fly bravely in the wind.

© Copyright Sharon St Joan, 2022

Where is yesterday in quantum physics?

majestic snowcapped mountains
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Authors Robert Lanza and Matej Pavsic (with Bob Berman) have written a book, The Grand Biocentric Design (How life creates reality). It is a sequel to other books. It is both horrifying and enlightening. Particularly, it is horrifying when one considers the implications of what he is saying. Otherwise, it might just be enlightening.

To give Robert Lanza credit, (since his name comes first, I assume his input is responsible for a large part of the book), he sounds like a very pleasant fellow. He makes every effort to explain things clearly, in a light and cheerful manner. He is kind enough to put all the mathematical equations in a separate section at the end (for the sake of simpletons like me) – and, best of all, he seems to love animals. He devotes a chapter to them and writes about animals with affection. He even includes them as “observers” – which, as sentient beings, they clearly are. He even mentions plants too.

However, generally speaking, the concepts of quantum physics – just like the theories of Einstein — have left many of us scratching our heads.

Most of us, I imagine, are familiar with the concept in quantum physics that the “observer” is a necessary part of reality. When studying tiny sub-atomic particles, one cannot pinpoint exactly where they are or what form they are in without the presence of the observer. When the observer is present, a beam of light exists as a particle, in a particular place, at a particular time.

Absent the observer, there is no way to pinpoint the location or the time of the light. It exists only as a probability that might or might not be anywhere. It is a wave, or a photon, not a particle, and it has no precise, defined existence.

Robert Lanza expands on this concept by concluding that probably there is no definite past at all. I’m leaving out the explanations, but the end result is that yesterday may have existed or maybe it didn’t. Time, as Einstein told us, is relative. As it turns out, it’s really, really relative. There may not be any clear, definite past at all – just a present – and a present only when there is an observer.

Robert Lanza does graciously acknowledge that animals can also be observers.  When the chipmunk hears the fall of the famous tree in the forest, then, surely, the tree actually fell and made a sound – just as if a human had heard it. That’s all well and good.

Is there a yesterday?

To get back to the existence of yesterday – it could be perceived by most of us as just a tiny bit alarming if there were no well-defined yesterday.

Consider this: Let’s say you celebrated Thanksgiving yesterday – along with all your relatives, including the uncle that you always argue with. Now looking back on this, it might be awkward to have to ask yourself if those people who sat around the table really were all your real relatives. Maybe in years past, you had completely different relatives? 

Or you tuck your child into bed at night and in the morning you wake her up. You would like to be confident that this is indeed your child – the same one who was your child yesterday.

You grew up in a small town in the Midwest – but wait, maybe not, maybe instead, you grew up in New York City, in a bustling urban neighborhood.  Who knows?

There is no definite past.

If you took any of this seriously, it might be genuinely disturbing.

A walk in the woods

This afternoon I took a short walk and sat down on the low branch of a juniper tree. Across the way, on the next tree was a very communicative raven – making a whole repertory of sounds – calls, warbles, and clicks.

I looked at the tree branch I was sitting on and thought about the concept of yesterday not being fixed in time at all.

Trees exist on nutrients that come to them though chemical actions caused by the passing of sunlight through their leaves – or in the case of the juniper, their needles. Through their roots buried in the earth they drink in water.

Now this becomes a problem if there was no yesterday – because how was this nourishment and drinking accomplished if the tree did not exist yesterday – or in the years and months prior to yesterday?  How exactly did the tree come to be, in its current form with a thick, sturdy trunk and lots of branches – without having received any nourishment, which would have required time in the past?

This is a problem because there was no observer of the tree eating and drinking. Even the perceptive raven in the other tree would not have noticed any eating or drinking done by the tree.

Perhaps the tree observed itself eating and drinking?  This would make the most sense, and there have been scientific experiments, and books published, that document the apparent awareness – or consciousness — of trees.  I certainly have no problem at all with the idea of trees being aware, sentient beings.

This still, however, doesn’t get rid of the problem of yesterday – and any other aspect of the past not having a fixed, definite form or existence.

For the tree to be eating and drinking – time is required – yesterday – or in the summertime – or whenever — there must be a precise, actually existing time when the tree received nourishment and water. Otherwise, it would not be alive. Without a certain past, there is no present.

Then there’s another problem – if plants and animals can be observers – and I would totally agree that that can happen, then what about the observer status of beings that are not biologically alive?  What about rocks, mountains, the stars, the moon?

What about the mountains and the moon?

If you are an astronomer, and you find the moon at a certain location along its trajectory around the earth – then the moon must have traveled to get there.  If the moon is to be found at location x, then it must have traveled in the past in order to arrive at the location where it is today.

So, is the moon conscious, and is it its own observer? The ancients – virtually all ancestors of modern humans – would have answered a resounding, “Yes, of course”!

But we feel we are so much wiser today – not superstitious or ignorant.

The simplest possible answer to all these perplexities is the very simple concept that everything and everyone is someone – from the tiniest microorganism to the biggest star – from the great mountain worshipped by native people to the old truck that you have fondly given a name to.

Furthermore, just to go one step further – one could suppose that all beings have a soul – and that that soul is one and the same Soul who is also the Creator and the Essence of the known Universe – and all that may lie beyond the universe – otherwise known as God.

(Oh dear, I guess we have just left behind virtually everyone who steadfastly identifies with the modern time in which we live.)

To go back to Robert Lanza for a moment, he, on several occasions, laughs at the concept of God by referring to “a belief in God, ghosts and spirits.” “Spirits,” I think, was what he mentioned along with God and ghosts.

We are expected these days to all belong to a club – the great club of modernity – which is educated – generally western – materialist – which values science above all and which, with greater conviction, with every passing day – is the Great Club of modern truth – with no longer any need to even condescend to consider – the values, beliefs, perceptions of those billions of souls who came before us – nevermind their art, their inspiration, their music, their mysticism, their vision and their profound awareness.

Our own meager modern glimmer of reality is supposed to be the final truth – and it diminishes in scope day by day.  Our ticket to this Club of Modernity is our denial of anything spiritual, alive, or true – until such time as this yuga ends and the light of the next yuga shines over the horizon.

So, we shall see, as time goes along…

(If this was, in any way, hard to follow, I’m sorry. Not to worry – these are just my thoughts. You’re welcome to your own. And, if you are blessed – as many people are – even in these dim days – with a vision and a connection with All that lies beyond, then God bless you and be well. If not, may the Light be with you.)

© Copyright Sharon St Joan, 2022