Birds and Starshine
Updated: Aug 24
I have spiritual practices that bracket my days, that ground and center me in my place in the universe, in my time-space, in the small oasis I call home.
I rise early, often before the sun--our beneficent Star--spills golden light over the grass and gleams on the Doric columns of our house. I pay homage, along with the birds, to welcome the new day. Robin begins the welcome with sleepy chortles, then Catbird mews from the forsythia, but it is Wren whose bold song brings the gladness of morning. I scatter birdseed offerings with my morning prayers to the sacred Seven Directions--the four cardinal directions, Above, Below, and Within, recreating the sphere of the Cosmos drawn about me. I meditate for a good while, journal, then move into my day.
And after nightfall and wine on our veranda, watching the dance of fireflies, after my husband and sister have retired, I step out onto our lawn beneath the blessing of constellations and planets and give thanks in the wonder of the night, always finding my way to Cygnus wheeling from the Northeast, to Deneb, my homing Star. And with the holiness of the living Universe and the magnetic pull of my True North filling my being, I head to bed as the Barred Owl hoots its questing eight notes from the creek bottom. My day ending, as it began, with the peaceful surround of celestial light and the loveliness of birdsong.