Earth day musing.....

Today is "earth day" and I wish there was something wonderfully inspiring and monumental that I could write or do that could convey my utter gratitude and love of the earth and all her inhabitants.... After "being with" this idea all morning the one "single thing" that I have happened upon is JOY. How can I (we) express my (our) love and gratitude for all the gifts of the earth? Express JOY!!! We can walk barefoot through the grass, hug trees, dance in the rain and climb mountains just because they are there. We can plant flowers, because "the earth laughs in flowers"; we can gather together and sing and love one another and know that we, too, are part of the divine wonders of the earth! I know this isn't a "new" thought, but it is something that, for me, has been difficult to really internalize and make real. Though, I must admit that I am learning to let go more and just show my gratitude with JOY, it is still somewhat of a challenge to not want to "save the world"! GULP! Having been somewhat of a "lorax" all my life, I am learning that there is a balance between speaking up and out and just letting the wisdom of everything unfold.... Everyday, I am becoming more comfortable living this paradox...It's all good. :) Anywhoo......Words cannot adequately express my gratitude for mother earth and all that is....soooo, I will spend my day planting flowers, walking barefoot, hugging trees and singing with my kiddos!!! Wishing you a blessed earth day! Namaste, S:) PS In my process this morning I was, for some reason, reminded of the following poem.... Hmmmmmm.....;) Mute By Margaret Atwood Whether to speak or not: the question that comes up again when you think you've said too much, again. Another clutch of nouns, a fistful: look how they pick them over, the shoppers for words, pinching here and there to see if they're bruised yet. Verbs are no better, they wind them up again too tight and the spring breaks. You can't take another poem of spring, not with the wound-up vowels, not with the bruised word green in it, not yours, not with ants crawling all over it, not this infestation. It's a market. flyspecked; how do you wash a language? There's the beginning of a bad smell, you can hear the growls, something's being eaten, once too often. Your mouth feels rotted. Why involve yourself? You'd do better to sit off to the side, on the sidewalk under the awning, hands cupped over your mouth, your ears, your eyes, with a cup in front of you into which people will or will not drop pennies. They think you can't talk, they're sorry for you, but. But you're waiting for the word, the one that will finally be right. A compound, the generation of life, mud and light.