Offering
I made a furrow in the dirt with the tip of my finger and
gave you an offering of tobacco. I asked if I could spend some time with you
and you said yes without hesitation. I could tell you thought this request
strange, as the birds never felt the need to ask.
I settled my back against your trunk, Grandfather, wise with
the passing of time, your skin wrinkled and grey like an elephant’s. I took in
your oak strength, exchanged breath with you in symbiotic communion, our most
ancient vow, our deepest entanglement. I opened my heart because I knew you
would accept anything I offered. It is not in your nature to deny. I pleaded
for your wisdom and guidance. What should I do? How should I proceed? I stared
into your beautiful canopy of sinuous branches, rippling like snakes frozen in
time. Your net of verdant spring leaves ensnared my eyes and you spoke into my
rapt attention.
You want to know, you want to be sure and have your
guarantees but the heart’s path is not one of surety. See how my limbs curve
toward the sun, molded by the seasons? I could not know what was to come,
drought, storm or sun. I took what came and grew according to my nature. The
path of the heart is like a strong wind. You do not fully know your heart yet.
You have stepped into the current’s edge where you feel slight breezes and
occasional gusts. Go deeper into the wind, follow your intuition, go where the
air quickens, ever go towards that, using all your body to feel the source. One
day you will enter the mighty flow, the main artery of wind and you will unfurl
your heart and use it as a sail and you will not travel according to plan nor
to a set of coordinates but according to a higher plan that has already been
laid out for you, the magnetic north of your being. Do not seek the knowable
way. Do not seek the safety of the clear path. If you can see the result and
work towards the result than you are already at the end and there can be no
journey. There will only be the passage of time. Be afraid and go with your
heart, cling to it as your center for where it leads is where you are meant to
be.
The net released, vision faded and I traced your skin with
the swirls of my fingertips and gave thanks.
