To my dear children:
Give praise for the beauty,
Say the names of birds, of trees, sons and daughters,
with highest honor.
Extol the lands and the seas between.
Give praise with your exhaled breath,
Honor and magnify the sweetness of the next.
It is our honor to live in this time.
We know grace in the possibilities we can see.
Treasures are we all, precious.
Each holding a thread, necessary, essential.
As the mists rise out of rivers, circling to the sky,
As clouds touch moist fingers to tree and crags;
So we nourish each other with the work of our lives.
And suck down the lightning when it strikes,
Entering alchemy willingly.
A new inheritance, a new line, a new wonder, now comes.
Eyes that see, listening ears, hearts netted together in will.
And shout aloud.
— Your Mother
Psalm 135 from Earth Psalms © Angela Magara