as disciple to a master

Earth As Teacher

“Earth teach me. . .”

a recurrent call through a Native American prayer

I often use to direct and center me in the morning,

I want to be as disciple to the master

who was and is before I come to be:

the Earth of rock and water,

of the first life and the latest life,

of death and loss and new birth,

of sunrise and light on our paths,

of sunset and the fading out,

we hope in glory,

for years I have wandered the woods,

sat at the feet of great trees,

pondered the messages of flower and stream,

listened to the stories animals create with their lives,

I can love our human world,

and get lost in the wonders and disasters we unleash,

I contend that we need to take the time

to let Earth teach us what we need to know,

even though we don’t quite realize what we’re learning,

the way that all that is not human

is more the world than we are

I watch a hawk for 15 minutes as it waits,

high in an oak tree,

for a meal to appear below it, nothing spectacular,

I slow down enough to wait for a beaver to reappear,

and I appreciate subtlety in the slow turn of the stars.

by Henry H. Walker
March 31, ‘19