© Susan Marie
You can listen to this being spoken on Soundcloud:
" . . . and I heard trumpets
sound across the Eastern skyline and tilted my chin, upward, to witness
majestic cirrus constellations of sketches of ancient poetry of the pyramids
scrolled upon the backs of my eyelids and felt my spirit shift between
dimensions . . . "
- Susan Marie
There comes a time in
your life, not age, but life experience related, when you are one hundred percent,
beyond any spectrum that requires defining; where you absolutely refuse to
accept anything less than what your divine, beautiful soul needs and deserves.
There are poets, philosophers,
great thinkers and souls of our time; this human race, that have stated these
things profoundly before. Yet, here I am to reiterate those things in a different
fashion because I, too, am an awake, alive soul that wishes to continue forward
and progressing, together.
If the human race is
not ready to come along with me on this rocky, well-trodden, lovely path, well,
I simply continue to walk it alone. You see, you do not have to have anyone with you, although having another
understand your mind, soul, and the scent of your very being is precious, quite priceless and rare, there are no requirements.
I may add, however, my dear soul, please, do not wait for a hand to hold as you
step lightly into this deep forest called life.
Life is a strange and beauteous
adventure. One day I shall write a most
distinguished book full of love and loss, horror and pain, heartbreak and
healing, and absolute divinity, but for now, all I have are my fingers, palms,
hands, heart, soul, mind and my words, on this day, in this moment.
A lovely soul once
wrote:
Ordinarily, I go to the
woods alone, with not a single
friend, for they are all smilers and talkers and therefore
unsuitable.
I don’t really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirds
or hugging the old black oak tree. I have my way of
praying, as you no doubt have yours.
Besides, when I am alone I can become invisible. I can sit
on the top of a dune as motionless as an uprise of weeds,
until the foxes run by unconcerned. I can hear the almost
unhearable sound of the roses singing.
If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love
you very much.”
friend, for they are all smilers and talkers and therefore
unsuitable.
I don’t really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirds
or hugging the old black oak tree. I have my way of
praying, as you no doubt have yours.
Besides, when I am alone I can become invisible. I can sit
on the top of a dune as motionless as an uprise of weeds,
until the foxes run by unconcerned. I can hear the almost
unhearable sound of the roses singing.
If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love
you very much.”
Indeed.
People ask me to go into the
woods with them and I do not decline due to the person, quite the opposite.
When I am in nature, this is my church, my altar, my prayer, my being, and my
rejuvenation and healing. This is where I talk to my ancestors, the great Gods,
whoever they all are, and when I reconnect with my own being.
The trees, I hug, touch, and listen to what they have to tell me. Deer prance, stopping beside me, peering into my soul to see if I am indeed an animal just as they are or a human that is going to disturb their existence. The crows caw, flying overhead keeping watchful eye and the squirrels and ducks follow me, along with chipmunks and all of the glorious birds flitting among the plants and flora that convey secrets to my ever-accepting heart.
The trees, I hug, touch, and listen to what they have to tell me. Deer prance, stopping beside me, peering into my soul to see if I am indeed an animal just as they are or a human that is going to disturb their existence. The crows caw, flying overhead keeping watchful eye and the squirrels and ducks follow me, along with chipmunks and all of the glorious birds flitting among the plants and flora that convey secrets to my ever-accepting heart.
I walk through woods, water,
cemeteries, grassland and gravel, boulders and dirt, through and up ravines. I
am one with the pulse of this land, of those before us. I am listening to my heart, beat, and my feet; they are roots
pushing deep within fault lines of this planet.
They step, ever so lightly, my feet, in a most
blessed, sacred fashion upon the face of dear Mother Earth, one of mindfulness,
the realization that I am walking upon hallowed ground. Father Sky greets me
with sunshine and clouds, rain and grey skies, snowfall and flakes and as they
fall upon my face, the rain and snow, my spirit is ignited, mythical and volcanic.
If you were standing by me, it
may appear that I am present in this
world. You just might call my name and if I do not answer, know that I am peering
at salamanders, holding in my hands rocks taken from the breast of great bodies
of water and when I tilt my chin upwards know that I am speaking to that which
created all of this.
You see, my dear, the wind in my hair is the touch of a lover.
People, we discard what is
integral to our own existence, to this planet, to the continuation of the human
race and more importantly, we are visitors here. I implore you to get into
nature and simply be quiet. Open your
eyes, look up and into limbs of trees, for they too, are your own arms. Crouch down
low, watch bugs scramble about their day in the dirt, listen to the water for
she has stories to tell and be humbled beyond comprehension when wildlife is present.
Breathe into your powerful human lungs the very
being of the essence of all things our feeble human brains can barely begin
to comprehend.
For those that have gone into
nature with me know that I love you so
very much. For those that have yet to go into nature with me, I look
forward to introducing you to yourself.
“I am restless.
This state of being greets me in
times of immense change.
When I look out at the world, I see both technicolor and black and white, simultaneous.
A world I am fully conscious of, yet
do not completely belong in.
Maybe I am impatient. Maybe I am
growing more enlightened.
Maybe I am simply plain crazy.
All I am sure of is I must keep
stepping forward."
- Susan Marie
© Susan Marie