Today we surround ourselves with the Green Robe of the Mother Earth, our Grandmother. She is a greening thing, a Flowering Tree that sends up her shoots to shade and delight, to nurture and rest you. She is a stream of running water, a cup to drink, a cleansing bath to restore the body, a benediction to renew each moment.
Let her winds wrap you in gentle, powerful blankets. Let her voice soothe your thoughts and fears, the things of long ago that wound you still. Let her words and sounds comfort you until you hear only the voice of her prayer; the wind, the streams, the flowing rivers, the pounding sea, the rains and thunder, the song of birds, the cry of wolves, the whistle of hawk and eagle, the flutter of tiny moths, the droning ones, the silence.
Today, as you walk in her forest, her generous carpets of mulch and leaf, stone and clay, her beds of cedar and moss, remember to walk there in soft, in reverent, in mindful dance. Greet everything around you — and speak to the earth you touch.
Breathe deeply and slowly, letting all that harms you go.
Receive her gifts. Let the Holy Fire come up and bless you.
Step softly, and walk as if you had no place to go.
~ adapted from Djohariah Toor, Songs from the Mountain