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Old 09-13-2017, 09:33 AM   #1 (permalink)
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Earth Prayers, part 2


On to the 2nd part of Earth Prayers! Thanks to all who've shared w/me along the way.

The first part of Earth Prayers is here: https://www.soberrecovery.com/forums...h-prayers.html (Earth Prayers)
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Old 09-13-2017, 10:10 AM   #2 (permalink)
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September 13, 2017

The greatest pleasure of a dog is that you may make a fool of yourself with him and not only will he not scold you, but he will make a fool of himself too.

- Samuel Butler

Well, I can't post the video, for some reason, so here is the link:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4W999ElIcfk
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Old 09-13-2017, 12:58 PM   #3 (permalink)
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Yes, Youtube doesn't seem to be working here today....but I clicked the link and

I love dogs and this is one of the best I have seen.
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Old 09-13-2017, 05:33 PM   #4 (permalink)
Learning to live again
 
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Love it, HP. One looks a bit like my Jackpot.
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A little voice deep inside me said, "Hello, I am here." It was a small voice, & sounded as if it were buried underneath the cushions of my couch. It was my soul...I had forgotten it.

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Old 09-14-2017, 10:32 AM   #5 (permalink)
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September 14, 2017

I died from minerality and became vegetable;
And from vegetativeness I died and became animal.
I died from animality and became man.
Then why fear disappearance through death?
Next time I shall die
Bringing forth wings and feathers like angels;
After that, soaring higher than angels -
What you cannot imagine,
I shall be that.


~ Rumi

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Old 09-14-2017, 02:05 PM   #6 (permalink)
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Rumi always warms my heart.
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Old 09-15-2017, 10:09 AM   #7 (permalink)
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Old 09-16-2017, 01:54 AM   #8 (permalink)
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September 16, 2017

Prayer from Green Gulch Farm

It is lovely indeed, it is lovely indeed.
I, I am the spirit within the earth.
The feet of the Earth are my feet,
the legs of the Earth are my legs.
The strength of the earth is my strength,
The thoughts of the Earth are my thoughts,
The voice of the earth is my voice.
The feather of the earth is my feather,
All that belong to the Earth belongs to me,
All that surrounds the Earth is me.
I, I am the Sacred works of the Earth.
It is lovely indeed, it is lovely indeed.


~ Suzanne Anderson

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Old 09-17-2017, 03:44 AM   #9 (permalink)
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Old 09-18-2017, 10:17 AM   #10 (permalink)
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September 18, 2017

The care of the Earth is our most ancient and most worthy, and after all our most pleasing responsibility. To cherish what remains of it and to foster its renewal is our only hope.

~ Wendell Berry

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Old 09-18-2017, 10:55 AM   #11 (permalink)
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That's how I picture your back yard, hp. Lovely thread.
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Old 09-18-2017, 01:58 PM   #12 (permalink)
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Hi Bim.

It's a lovely picture - we have similar scenes around us. So very blessed.
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A little voice deep inside me said, "Hello, I am here." It was a small voice, & sounded as if it were buried underneath the cushions of my couch. It was my soul...I had forgotten it.

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Old 09-18-2017, 02:28 PM   #13 (permalink)
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I love yards and places like that, so peaceful and natural.
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Old 09-20-2017, 02:18 AM   #14 (permalink)
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September 19, 2017

When we recognize the virtues, the talent, the beauty of Mother Earth, something is born in us, some kind of connection, love is born.

~ Thich Nhat Hanh

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Old 09-20-2017, 05:41 AM   #15 (permalink)
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That picture brings me to the forest. I love standing on a path in a forest and look at the sun rays breaking through the trees. The tiny trilliums on the forest floors around here, turn their faces to the sun and smile.
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Old 09-20-2017, 09:13 AM   #16 (permalink)
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I would love to wander down the path in the picture also, Ann. And like you, I love how the shafts of sunlight sift through the leaves of a forest, so beautiful! Easy to see how there is so much "cathedral" imagery about forests...

And trilliums are little drops of magic, aren't they? Little earth stars, come to rest among the ferns and moss.
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Old 09-20-2017, 11:24 AM   #17 (permalink)
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September 20, 2017

And the stars in the night were the eyes of the wolves, and the wind itself was their song.

~ seems to be from Game of Thrones, but can't find a good attribution

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Old 09-20-2017, 01:30 PM   #18 (permalink)
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I had to look at Rudyard Kipling's poem, The Law of The jungle as it is about wolves, but it doesn't come from that.

This line has always stuck with me and I think it describes perfectly the relationship of a person with their 12 step group.

For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack.


It's a lovely poem, so I thought I'd bring it here. Hope you don't mind.



The Law of the Jungle
~Rudyard Kipling

NOW this is the Law of the Jungle—as old and as true as the sky;
And the Wolf that shall keep it may prosper, but the Wolf that shall break it must die.

As the creeper that girdles the tree-trunk the Law runneth forward and back—
For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack.

Wash daily from nose-tip to tail-tip; drink deeply, but never too deep;
And remember the night is for hunting, and forget not the day is for sleep.

The Jackal may follow the Tiger, but, Cub, when thy whiskers are grown,
Remember the Wolf is a Hunter—go forth and get food of thine own.

Keep peace withe Lords of the Jungle—the Tiger, the Panther, and Bear.
And trouble not Hathi the Silent, and mock not the Boar in his lair.

When Pack meets with Pack in the Jungle, and neither will go from the trail,
Lie down till the leaders have spoken—it may be fair words shall prevail.

When ye fight with a Wolf of the Pack, ye must fight him alone and afar,
Lest others take part in the quarrel, and the Pack be diminished by war.

The Lair of the Wolf is his refuge, and where he has made him his home,
Not even the Head Wolf may enter, not even the Council may come.

The Lair of the Wolf is his refuge, but where he has digged it too plain,
The Council shall send him a message, and so he shall change it again.

If ye kill before midnight, be silent, and wake not the woods with your bay,
Lest ye frighten the deer from the crop, and your brothers go empty away.

Ye may kill for yourselves, and your mates, and your cubs as they need, and ye can;
But kill not for pleasure of killing, and seven times never kill Man!

If ye plunder his Kill from a weaker, devour not all in thy pride;
Pack-Right is the right of the meanest; so leave him the head and the hide.

The Kill of the Pack is the meat of the Pack. Ye must eat where it lies;
And no one may carry away of that meat to his lair, or he dies.

The Kill of the Wolf is the meat of the Wolf. He may do what he will;
But, till he has given permission, the Pack may not eat of that Kill.

Cub-Right is the right of the Yearling. From all of his Pack he may claim
Full-gorge when the killer has eaten; and none may refuse him the same.

Lair-Right is the right of the Mother. From all of her year she may claim
One haunch of each kill for her litter, and none may deny her the same.

Cave-Right is the right of the Father—to hunt by himself for his own:
He is freed of all calls to the Pack; he is judged by the Council alone.

Because of his age and his cunning, because of his gripe and his paw,
In all that the Law leaveth open, the word of your Head Wolf is Law.

Now these are the Laws of the Jungle, and many and mighty are they;
But the head and the hoof of the Law and the haunch and the hump is—Obey!
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Old 09-20-2017, 08:54 PM   #19 (permalink)
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Thanks for posting that, Ann--I LOVE "The Jungle Book" and have read it many, many times over many, many years! "Kaa's Hunting" never fails to give me chills every time.

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Old 09-20-2017, 09:10 PM   #20 (permalink)
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September 21, 2017

Snake

A snake came to my water-trough
On a hot, hot day, and I in pyjamas for the heat,
To drink there.
In the deep, strange-scented shade of the great dark carob-tree
I came down the steps with my pitcher
And must wait, must stand and wait, for there he was at the trough before
me.

He reached down from a fissure in the earth-wall in the gloom
And trailed his yellow-brown slackness soft-bellied down, over the edge of
the stone trough
And rested his throat upon the stone bottom,
And where the water had dripped from the tap, in a small clearness,
He sipped with his straight mouth,
Softly drank through his straight gums, into his slack long body,
Silently.

Someone was before me at my water-trough,
And I, like a second comer, waiting.

He lifted his head from his drinking, as cattle do,
And looked at me vaguely, as drinking cattle do,
And flickered his two-forked tongue from his lips, and mused a moment,
And stooped and drank a little more,
Being earth-brown, earth-golden from the burning bowels of the earth
On the day of Sicilian July, with Etna smoking.
The voice of my education said to me
He must be killed,
For in Sicily the black, black snakes are innocent, the gold are venomous.

And voices in me said, If you were a man
You would take a stick and break him now, and finish him off.

But must I confess how I liked him,
How glad I was he had come like a guest in quiet, to drink at my water-trough
And depart peaceful, pacified, and thankless,
Into the burning bowels of this earth?

Was it cowardice, that I dared not kill him? Was it perversity, that I longed to talk to him? Was it humility, to feel so honoured?
I felt so honoured.

And yet those voices:
If you were not afraid, you would kill him!

And truly I was afraid, I was most afraid, But even so, honoured still more
That he should seek my hospitality
From out the dark door of the secret earth.

He drank enough
And lifted his head, dreamily, as one who has drunken,
And flickered his tongue like a forked night on the air, so black,
Seeming to lick his lips,
And looked around like a god, unseeing, into the air,
And slowly turned his head,
And slowly, very slowly, as if thrice adream,
Proceeded to draw his slow length curving round
And climb again the broken bank of my wall-face.

And as he put his head into that dreadful hole,
And as he slowly drew up, snake-easing his shoulders, and entered farther,
A sort of horror, a sort of protest against his withdrawing into that horrid black hole,
Deliberately going into the blackness, and slowly drawing himself after,
Overcame me now his back was turned.

I looked round, I put down my pitcher,
I picked up a clumsy log
And threw it at the water-trough with a clatter.

I think it did not hit him,
But suddenly that part of him that was left behind convulsed in undignified haste.
Writhed like lightning, and was gone
Into the black hole, the earth-lipped fissure in the wall-front,
At which, in the intense still noon, I stared with fascination.

And immediately I regretted it.
I thought how paltry, how vulgar, what a mean act!
I despised myself and the voices of my accursed human education.

And I thought of the albatross
And I wished he would come back, my snake.

For he seemed to me again like a king,
Like a king in exile, uncrowned in the underworld,
Now due to be crowned again.

And so, I missed my chance with one of the lords
Of life.
And I have something to expiate:
A pettiness.


~ D. H. Lawrence



To see the snake drinking, click the link:
https://media.giphy.com/media/QRU0mQLSfvknC/giphy.gif
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