Mother Earth
“you well may grieve”

By: Anneke Edson

May 25, 2020

He had knelt in front of her before

Praising her beauty in all her multifaceted forms

And giving ample thanks for the fact

They included him.

 

But early this morning, during his prayers,

He collapsed to her feet weeping,

Reaching to embrace them, not quite able to,

And struggling because

His heart felt more Alive than ever

And yet it throbbed

With a deep and almost unbearable ache.

 

“Oh dear,” she said softly

And rose into her full self

Before melting into the ground around him,

Embracing him instead, and whispering,

“I have never lived such that you have not lived with me.

And I will never die such that you will be without me.”

 

“Yes. You well may grieve as so much dies.

And, yes. Water this precious soil with your heartfelt tears

In preparation for the new things yet to grow.

Then rise with me to dance

Because, when you dance,

Your smile becomes the Sun;

The love and the warmth that nourishes all that grows

From your tears of care.”

 

“But first, before we rise,

Breath and rest for just a moment longer.

Allow your heartbreak to transform you one more time.”

 

“The pain that fills your heart? Dear one!

Do you not remember now? It’s merely your letting go.

The letting go of complete and utter Trust in Life

That grows the wings so you can fly.

And fly you must, as well as cry and smile,

For in your joyous flight you make our rebirth possible.”

 

A. Edson

Out of a Dream

2020

Author: Anneke Edson

Anneke is a prolific writer and poet of the New Republic of the Heart. She was a key part of the original Co-Creators of the NRTH Voices blog.

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