I went swimming today,
in a small, heated, indoor pool.
But it reminded me of summer,
hot sun and skin slick with sweat.
Something funny happens to me this time of year,
a kind of wistful longing.
So that even as I dream of forests thick and green soon to come,
I grieve for the silent calm of falling snow,
the sharp snap of branches coated with ice,
and the howling wind,
rattling the windows
of our tiny house.
And even though I’m happy for longer days
and shorter nights,
I’m already missing
the dark, cold,
and tossed in the sea of change.
But the soft cycles of life are like that I guess.
A slow turning on a scale much grander
And there is comfort there.
The gift of life.
Thank you for listening,
Shell. This piece is so beautiful, and rings so true. I think many people will agree, and feel it in their hearts, the truth of it. I could not do this project without you, your beautiful words and images just light up the world. You are amazing. I love you. Thank you.
The following piece and photos are by Michelle Johnsen
the rising pulsing sun, the roaming roaring waters, every green thing, every petal, those are sacred to me.
i have faith in them, sing joy to them.
i come to them with worries, give thanks, ask only for forgiveness, love.
i spread the word.
is this not my religion?
is this not to be protected, respected by law, its holy things held sacred across the world, never spoiled if it can be helped?
you know who spoils sacred things?
oppressors defile treasures and customs, they kill if they have to.
same as coal miners, gas frackers, oil drillers, monsanto execs
defile my treasured planet with their hateful consumption,
mock my earthly mass with their destruction.
each sunrise my stained glass window,
each flower my saint, each berry my communion,
each birdsong my hymn,
each river my homily.
separation of earth and hate.