once upon a time there was a continent, country, classroom
it looked like this
thousands of hungry children
hungry to learn and play with organic language
streamed through shuttered light
passing wood worn habitats of humanity
taking a seat
they opened their head
they opened their heart
they opened their mouth
“I am an old dialect of Kalapuya tribes. I respect the spirit energies. I hear with my eyes and see with my ears. I understand your love for the spirit power guardian. I am an ancestor speaking 300 languages from our history. Now only 150 dialects remain.
“A hunting gathering people, speaking Pentian, we numbered 3,000 in 1780. We believed in nature spirits, vision quests and guardian spirits. Our shamans, called, amp a lak ya taught us how seeking, finding and following one’s spirit or dream power and singing our song was essential in community.
“I speak in tongues, in ancient dialects about love. Dialects of ancestors who lived here for 8,000 years before where you are now. In the forest near the river all animal spirits welcome you with their love. They are manifestations of your being.
“I am blessed to welcome you here. You have walked along many paths of love to reach me.
“My dirt path is narrow and smooth in places, rocky in others. I am the soil under your feet. I feel your weight, your balance—your weakness and your strength. I hear your heart beating as my ancestors pounded their ceremonial drums. I feel the tremendous surging force of your breath extend into my forest. Wind accepts your breath.
“I am everything you see, smell, taste, touch, and hear. I am the oak, the fir and pine trees spread like dreams upon your outer landscape. I am your inner landscape. I see you stand silent in the forest hearing trees nudge each other.
“Look,” they say, “someone has returned.”
“I love the way you absorb the song of brown body thrush collecting moss for a nest. I am the small brown bird saying hello. I am the sweet throated song you hear without listening. At night two owls sing their distant song and their music fills your ears with mystery and love.
“I am warm spring sun on your face filtered through leaves of time. I am the spider’s web dancing with diamond points of light. I am the rough fragile texture of bark you gently remove before connecting the edge of an axe with wood. You carry me through my forest, your flame creates heat of love. I am the taste of pitch on your lips, the odor of forest in your nostrils, filling your lungs. It is sweet.
“I am the cold rain, and wet snow, and hot sun, and four seasons. I am yellow, purple, red, blue, orange flowers from brown earth.
“Language cannot be separated from who you are and where you live.
“I say this so you will remember everything in this forest. I took care of this place and now your love has the responsibility.
“Respect and dignity with mindfulness.”
A web site, my-planet.org had a photo contest.
They asked for trees. He sent them an Angkor Wat monster.
They said it was a spectcular angle. They gave it an honorable mention. Here it is.
Towering, the tree said, thank you to the sun.
Do you want to understand us, asked a Khmer girl.
Yes.
Ok. Here's a story every child sees, hears, smells, and eats in school. It says everything.
Once upon a time there was a hungry rabbit.
It saw a woman coming with a basket of bananas on her head.
The rabbit thought, I will play dead and see what happens.
The woman stopped when she saw the rabbit.
She said, “A dead rabbit. Meat. We will eat good tonight.”
She picked up the rabbit, put it her basket and continued walking.
The rabbit ate all the bananas and ran away.
What a clever rabbit.
She gets home. Her family is happy to have food.
"I found a rabbit. We'll eat good tonight."
She put the basket down. "O my."
Lesson? Don't put all your bananas in one basket.
My Planet is asking for images of trees.
Explore a floating mangrove forest. Before 9 July.
I will never see
A poem as lovely
As a tree.
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