Chased my desires downhill
Swallowed them in big gulps
Finding my way back home
Heart-rains (heart reigns)
Cried a river of tears
To and from that drought-choked creek
Maybe my tears will
Nurse it back to life
Small cost to pay, this rain
This broken-open heart
So heavy with
Insatiable desire that gratitude
Teases out in me
Clouds were gathering.
A storm was brewing.
My practice for the day was to see love in and around me, to dwell in the heart of cosmos.*
After threatening all day yesterday with clouds and high humidity, the rain finally made good on its promise and fell during the night. This is the first rain since Spring and I enjoyed the gentle tap-tap on the skylights, feeling cozy and secure in my warm home. “All the creatures and plants of the forest are happy,” I thought.
This morning, I took a walk on the damp trail, softened by the night’s rain. My footfall was muffled and everything felt intimate, quiet, waiting, for what I don’t know, but there was a real sense of sacredness, of gratitude, of relief.
Rain drops clung to every branch, every spider web, glistening in the sunlight like strands of fine Austrian crystals and cast against shadowed backdrops like a Milky Way. Pungent earth aromas tinged with the spice of chaparral and pine teased my nose. The sun danced with the clouds, mosses grew greener and negative ions (those natural air purifiers) lifted my spirits. This is the Northern California that I love and to which I was first introduced when I moved north from the southern part of the state in October 1995.
I soaked it all in and it washed away my internal dust, dust that had settled in me over the dry season. My sorrows were gathered up by the rain and deposited in open seedpods which have been waiting so patiently for some nourishment. My tears and the sky’s rain echo one another. New spores and pollens are released. New life begins.
When I cry, I re-locate my heart. I feel it open and release. It hurts. It feels wonderful. Maybe if we were all willing to open our hearts and release those tears from time to time, we’d ease a bit of the pain and misery in this world. We’d have more frequent and gentle rains and less torrential, even destructive, downpours.
I pondered this: If we have the courage to experience and release the tempest in our own hearts, we may be less likely to cast our shadows upon the world to be acted out in tragic dramas of mass destruction. What eats at us internally, devours our world as well.
What if our tears are the rain that transmutes Gaia’s pain?
Copyright(c)September 2009, Kathy J Loh, All Rights Reserved
References and Resources:
Bruce Cockburn – The Whole Night Sky