In an old world
We look at the seasons
The rise and fall of water
The waxing and the waning
We observed in quiet and in wonder
We were cautious with what we didn’t understand
We were in awe of life
In awe of stars and flame and the moon
We had smooth edges to ourselves along with the rough
We endured
We left our stories on the stones , tucked into tree limbs, buried in soil, cast to water and burned in fires
We talked and sand and danced our histories
Our survival
Our endurance
Remember…
The harkening of the seed within
Blunted now perhaps by a modern world
The innate power and knowledge, scraped and erased
But still a glimmer remains
We are more than one thing
Than one skill
Than one life
Than one individual
We are more than a solitary person in the sea of One Persons
We are more than survival
In an old world, we clung together to endure
To thrive
We honoured the gifts and observations and teachings of others
And as we became bolder and cleverer and "better’
We cast out those same gifts, those teachers, those healers
We depended less and strove more
We are complex and contrary
The light and the dark
The best and worst lives inside of each of us
But…
I am you
You are me
We are part of everything and everything is part of us
Ubuntu - I am, because we are
Blessings from the Bonewitch
Message me any time to talk about bones, or wood or workshops or life or creating a community that walks together again.
toffee.jo @ gmail.com
