i am earth
the sweet smell of humus
i am music
phrase and quiet
i am dance
gesture and touch
i am the baby at my breast
i am the one who writes letters
who waters the plants
who answers the door or the telephone
i also set the table
and roast the chicken
i am the avenue, the culvert, the riverbed
i am incense
and rising smoke
i am mute mystery
i am the turtle in the garden, whom we call by name.
i think I sent a comment about sacred space and the digital age. but i don’t know if it flew. i haven’t been on the blog-o-sphere in a while and had trouble logging in. too many passwords.