Whispering of Sisters

The Whispering of Sisters

By

Linda Justice

Part I

Prologue:

The Bible: from “Her” point of view.

  Tree limbs for the oars:

I gave them my limbs so they would have strong arms to navigate in the sea of life

Tree trunk for the boat:

I gave them my body so they would have where to stand

in the sea of life, for their journey

I gave them land:

so when they embarked they could build a fire  in my hearth for warmth

I gave them my roots,

my herbs,

for their journey.

I gave them the moon:

so they could navigate in the darkness

 and illuminate their dreams.

I gave them the sun:

so they could have light to see my beauty and my abundance and to fill their needs with my bounty,

and to dry my fruit so they would have sustenance for their journey.

God gave them their spirit:

so they would be filled with all things and know all things and love all things and  care for all things and be fed by all things:

that all their wants and dreams shall be met and nourished by me.

And the muse of creation fed their imaginations with fantasies

to help their hands and minds fulfill their destinies.

Then they left with what I gave them knowing we are one,

that we are born from the galaxies made of stardust

and nourished from the earth.

Part II

Then, one night, a storm came upon these distant travelers

who from a galaxy far away had landed upon the earth,

and their sight became covered with haze and they lost their way. And when they finally embarked on a distant shore

they met others who had lost their way.

And soon all those whom had lost their way forgot from where they came.

And without mindfulness from where they came, slowly they began to do things without thinking,

as the haze made them forget.

                         And they forgot the sacred meaning of things,

 they turned my body into an object of lust

calling me “whore.”

And not being sustained by me

they called me “barren.”

And when it rained they called my earth, nourishment of my body,

“mud”

And with this mud they painted their bodies-- and they came to be known as the mud tribes.

They painted their bodies because they had been scorched by the sun instead of nourished by it -- they painted their bodies with mud for protection.

At night they shut themselves in boxes, to lock out the mystery of night’s illuminating dreams.

They turned my bounty into poisonous “whisky” and when they came they stomped and stomped until in grief I dried up and gave no more.

After they used up this place they set out again for another shore – and they spotted me from a distance.

And I saw them emerge from the haze.

 The sisters of the wind rose up and looked and saw they were returning.

 The lost sons of the bowels of the earth were returning to reclaim the sun and the moon and the earth.

 But they did not recognize us.

 They came and made a fire and burned all there was and built rooms to hide from their dreams and killed life for nourishment.

And again they left, and traveling they got lost in a storm and lost their direction, and now they are returning. And this time they are angry, frustrated and tired.

What might they do?

The sleeping sisters arose and cried.

 What might they do? What might they do? 

Will they burn us and set fire to us because they are lost and adrift?

How can we help them to see the sun’s gifts and the illumination of the moon -- that they are already home!

This is my prayer for these travelers who came from a far away galaxy and make my earth their home. Who once built sacred fires and fed off the bounty of my harvest.

The  Beginning

The wind stirred. The sisters of the earth whispered and cried out, what’s happening, what’s happening? Sister wind came to tell us something.

They are coming! They are coming! What will they do? Where can we run? cried the shore sister. Where can I run? cried the tree trunk sister. What shall I see? cried the raven.

They are coming. They are coming, where can we go? I can’t move, cried the shore sister, I belong to the earth. I can’t leave.

Where shall I go, cried the trunk sister? They took what they‘ve needed long ago. What shall we do, cried the grass sister? Will they stomp on us and set us afire? And piss on us and throw their garbage on us? How can we tell them to please trod gently?

Raven flew all around and finally she too saw these travelers off in the distance, coming towards them draped in fur. “Our fur brothers are coming; the travelers who don’t know that this was once their home. How can we tell them?” Raven sister flew from trunk to land to grass asking “What can we do? What can we do? They are approaching!”

Maybe we can sing. Sing! Sing! Sing!

So the raven started to sing, and the land started to hum, and the tree trunk tried to rustle its one remaining leaf in the wind.

Then these creatures draped in fur landed in their boat long ago made from the trunk of the tree sister, with oars from her limbs, and dirt from the land, and grass woven into baskets. But this time, they stomped and stomped. And they came upon the land cursing their loss – they cursed that this land was barren.

And the sisters tried to sooth them.

And the wind sister came and gently cooled them, and the fish sisters came and let them their bodies for sustenance. And the fur men chopped at the trunk sister and she screamed in agony as they took her. And the land sister wept as their heavy boots bruised into her. Where once they used to tread softly and gently as if knowing there was something special under their feet.

The fur brothers gathered twigs to make a fire and sat.

 And the moon came out and gave them soft light and the stars in the night sky came out and gave them beauty. And with their stomachs full of fish they laid down with their heads on her bosom and they finally slept.

And the sisters held a meeting and asked, “how can we get them to remember that this was home?”

And at night, as the distant travelers lay sleeping by their fire raven sister sang in their ears. And soon they started to remember, and they remembered –

How at night she wore a pink necklace and at her navel mother of pearl.

And how the flower sisters had enticed them with the scent of her creation.

And one traveler saw his spirit pass through the land of the “sleeping giants”, the sisters of stone, and he remembered being taught many ways of living on the earth.

And he remembered being pushed out to sea where they got lost and with no one to guide them they arrived at a distant shore far from home.

The dream told of the light within. And when they awoke, they spoke of memories of gentle things.

And one cried.

And his tear drops fell to the earth.

This man, from very far away, whose dreams were merging back from clay,

He touched the earth that now lay moist from his tears.

With the mud he touched his face, and it soothed him.

And as our brother sat and cried and cried, his teardrops became the fertilization for the new millennium.

What can I do? He cried. What can I do?

How can I help others to see that we are already home?

This barren land is what fed us and nourished us so long ago.

What can I do? He cried. What can I do?

And then, he heard a voice that seemed to come from the depths of the bowels of the earth reverberating with a vibration that seemed to speak from all of the creation.

Run!

Run!

Run to the city!

Run to the valley!

Run to the mountain!

Tell them we are ONE!

Run! Run!

Tell them we are One!

And the earth under him began to shake and sing.

I say, hey, hey,

I say, ho, ho,

I say, run, run

With the news that we are one!

I say ho, I say hey,

I say run, run

We are one!

I say hey, hey, hey,

I say ho, ho, ho

I say run, run, run

Tell them we are One!

That the earth and the moon and the stars, we are one with humanity.

And we must all dance together.

And the man ran, and as he ran he witnessed the sounds of life

Reverberating all throughout creation.

The Beginning

A boy, sad and lonely, arrived  at the edge of a forest. He carries few possessions.

He has a tape player with the Beatles tunes.

The song, “She loves you, yeah, yeah, she loves you yeah, yeah, yeah,” is playing.

The boy sits and sings along.

As the music dies down, he is singing it to himself.

Right, he says. No one loves “me.”

He lay down and fell into a deep sleep.

Softly the earth around him begins to sing:

She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah, she loves you yeah, yeah, yeah, she loves you yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Then the boy has a dream:

The boy is lying on the grass. An unfamiliar voice makes itself heard.

First clearing its throat. Then the little voice says: Excuse me!

Excuse me. Err, excuse me. Excuse me.

Slowly the boy stirs. And finally hearing the wispy voice, he moves.

Excuse me. You’re sitting on me. Can you just move over a bit?

The boy turns over to see a little daisy. He picks up the daisy that has one petal bent over where it was crushed by the boy’s arm.

The little boy took the flower and gently held it in his hand.

Can you give me some water? spoke the flower.

The boy has a bottle of water with him and he sprinkles some of it on the flower.

Thank you, said the flower.

The boy held the flower in the palm of his hand.

Why are you so sad? Asked flower.

I have no one: responded the boy.

Flower was shocked. Why, I’ve never heard of such at thing!

The boy put the flower in his shirt pocket. And the flower listened to the boy’s cries of loneliness, and they become best of friends.

Flower starts to show the boy all of the creation. He shows him many things, including

The special little deer flower. A special little flower that magic creatures grow for the deer to eat just because they love them so much.

But then, as time has its own way, and flowers do not live for very long, flower

finally becomes week. And choking, he asks the boy for one last drink of water.

The boy held and caressed him as he lay dying.

Flower gave instructs to the boy: Please do not be sad. And then flower turned over and went limp. The boy cried and cried and cried himself into an even deeper sleep.

After a while, a little shout came from somewhere around the boy.

Hey, hey, hey, over here!

The surprised teary-eyed boy looked over to see another flower, flower’s cousin, waving a petal.

The boy smiled and took the flower, put him in his pocket.

In his dreams the flower taught the boy how to speak with nature, how to sleep under a tree and listen, and so many other things to show him that we are never truly alone.

And when the boy awoke from this deep sleep, he was happy. And he ran back to the city to tell all that he had learned.

And every week thereafter, the boy returned back to the forest, to nap under a big tree, to wait for a dream, to meet a flower, even a little deer flower, to learn all he can about the magic of creation.

                                                            The end.

Notes: The themes which run through the piece are:

In all the sacred texts there are writings about the earth being sacred.

1: The Talmud: Every blade of grass has an angel over it saying: Grow, grow, grow.

2: Isaiah: And the rivers shall shout with joy and the mountains shall clap their hands.

3. Genesis isn’t something that happened 2000 years ago, we are all “in” genesis and

The way back to the Garden of Eden is to love the earth and all of the creation.

To the Mother of all of Life

As I open my eyes to the light of dawn,

I turn to you with gratitude.

Thank you for this new day's unfolding,

thank you for my health,

thank you for the peace in my mind.

As I adjust to the rhythm of this new day,

 my heart dances to your melody.

 Thank you for the water I clean with,

 thank you for the earth I tread upon,

 thank you for the air I breathe.

As I welcome this new day's content,

I remember your presence within and without,

Thank you for the food that sustains me,

thank you for the scent of flowers and the taste of fruits,

 thank you for the birds and the colors of the rainbow.

As the evening dusk stretches over the horizon,

 I reflect in your graceful company.

 Thank you for the roof over my head,

thank you for the fire that warms me, thank you for the beauty of your creation.

As the stars fill the sky and I lay down to rest,

 I take refuge in your Oneness.

 Thank you for entrusting me with talents,

thank you for the trials through which I grow in wisdom,

thank you for the helpers you place on my path.

Thank you for the support I receive from friends.

 Thank you for teaching me to reside in my heart. Thank you for my life.

In your hands I place the merits I gather, at your feet I place the pain I experience.

 May it benefit all beings

                                     Prayer ©Annick Baud