Water is such a simple thing, just H2O, for most of us always there to drink or use for washing.  We are used to a world with rivers and oceans, with rain and snow, but without water there would be no life on this planet.  There used to be water on Mars, leaving behind dried river systems, but now we are the only planet that we know of with water, with life.  70% of the earth’s surface is covered with water, and 60% of our bodies consists of water.  Water is home to 78% of our animal life. 

Water is precious, yet many areas now suffer from a shortage of water, and worldwide we have problems of pollution.  Today, when you have a drink or a shower, when you walk in the rain or visit a river, give thanks.

Water

Water falls in intimate, clinging caresses,
shape shifting to cover each surface
like words
so you don’t notice how heavy it is
when lying pooled and still
(‘though always ready to tip and slide
like mercury,
like something alive),
singing the song of the oceans inside our bodies,
carrying our blood, our tears, our heat;
or out there holding
the weight of the world and its moon
in a courtship flow of dance.

Gathered
from the air as rain,
from the ground as seeping, splashing springs,
from our bodies and houses and works as waste,
flowing from one to another in anonymity,
transferring allegiance and load
then starting all over again
as if virgin, as essence of pure,
as source of cleansing.

Take me to your drink,
to your magic of everywhere invisible power
(except the oceans
where we see you storm and spray
and lift liners, and smooth sand,
and know that underneath you
tickle the tongues of mussels
and feather the fins of fish).

Take me to the fullness of holding
in wet dissolving
and of letting go, and of moving on.

We are just past the solstice and beginning the winter when cold and dark drive us inside to the light and the warmth and perhaps to a fire.  The earth is the only place in our solar system where there is fire because fire needs oxygen to burn.  Fire was essential to enable early humans to colonise the earth as it kept them warm in colder areas.  It also gave them light in the dark, enabled them to cook, to keep wild animals away, and to process their tools.  Some farming communities have used fire to clear the land, and wild fires have been helpful to clear old vegetation and leave space and nutrients for new growth.  Fire has been a great gift.  But recently there have been more frequent, larger and higher intensity wildfires which are destroying valuable ground cover, trees and wildlife plus nearby buildings.  Fire is one of many aspects of our planet where we need to see balance restored. 

Hoping you all have enough ‘fire’ for your warmth and cooking this winter, and sending love to those who don’t.

Winter Solstice

It is the time of the fading light,
a time when leaves are fallen,
birds are hushed
and cold has taken
the reigns.

The winter solstice.
The sun’s pause in its passing
before starting, so slowly,
to return.

Can we pause?
Can we follow its journey
into our own inner depths
and darkness
and find a rest there?

For tomorrow there will be fire
to warm the cold,
and friends
to warm the heart,

living in the interconnectedness
of all things,
our journey and the sun’s,
our darkness and our light,
and the fire that flames
at each connection.