On this day

Image by Michelle Smith

Have you heard the wise ones say that
all possibilities exist simultaneously.
All peoples, all places, all times, pulsating together in
uniformity, oneness, completeness.

She squats, hunched over the burning embers of her life.
Picking through hot coals, discerning a new way forward.

She is the lone wolf howling from the hilltops,
climbing the highest mountain of Self.
Loping through discarded forests of yester-years.

Who will be the first follower, second, third, fourth
to bring life to its tipping point.

Through flames of her own fire, she sees a time
in the not so distant future
where one possibility plays out.

Dawn breaks on Winter Solstice in Deloraine,
bringing with it promise of a
celebratory day.
It is a Deloraine which has come full circle,
rising and falling through modernity and
returning to a simpler way of being.
She has been the heralder of a new world.

In households all around the town neighbours come together
after crunching through white tipped grass and winding their
way through an Organic paradise. There are no fences;
they were taken down long ago.

In houses all over Deloraine voices chatter, pots clang,
children gurgle, and giggle, and play;
following the natural rhythm of life.
Then as the day warms and the frost melts,
people begin to spill out into the streets and onto
the town common. Tents are being pitched,
a bonfire is being prepared, tables are being set up and
Deloraine people come with their summer preserves, baked goods,
musical instruments, and smiles brighter than
you’ve ever seen the moon. A band of gypsies ride
into town in wagons decorated with the most amazing designs.
They bring spices and stories from far off places and even more
Music and laughter.

And so the day rolls on and there is much
giving and receiving of food and music;
a genuine sharing from the heart. Old timers
tell stories of the old world, while young ones
scoff at the time when people were ruled by money
and things.

They can’t imagine such a world with
big buildings full of stuff and being trapped in
jobs that you don’t really like and eating
plastic food that travels for miles and miles
before it reaches your mouth. They cringe
at the thought of a world full of waste and
despair, where providing basic needs was
an individual practice and the care of the
vulnerable was left to a handful of
so called professionals,
instead of the whole community.

As night prepares to unfold her sacred darkness
Across the land, everyone is called into the
Yarning circle. It is a circle, inside a circle,
inside a circle. A hush falls over the common.
One of the oldest elders, keeper of stories,
speaks to the gathering. She too speaks of the
old world, the good and bad of it. She speaks
of the time when the she wolf
howled and others heard her call. When the
sun rose on another Winter Solstice and
spoke to the people’s hearts and they
believed it was possible to live from
the heart instead of the ego and
so agreed to put aside their differences and
sit down to speak of how a new world might
come to be. This new world imbued with
ancient ways, bringing with it some of the
modern world, but only that which serves
the whole. ‘From this day’, speaks the elder,
‘in this very place, sprouted the seeds of
change, and those seeds blossomed into
a bright new world.

The she wolf rises from her fire and the
Vision of a new Deloraine dissipates with
the smoke, while she now howls with a
new found hope for the future.