Copyright 2021 Don Ray. Feel free to print and share.
On ridge, hoping for a glimpse of the little coyote family
Heard them last night, a soft little collection of yips, not far away I suspect.
The sharp angle of penetrating light of rising sun sweeps orange down the west walls of the valley, rich greens of the cool shadowed valley floor soon to glow with yellow summer sun.
Yeshu (Jesus) wept over our condition, not just our suffering and misery, but the spiritual condition that fosters that misery. What happened?! Were we really once in the Garden? Did we really once know a life and place without fear, a place where no form had to have big ears to hear predators or sharp fangs to penetrate flesh? Is the nature of this present temporal world in response to our chosen nature, a reflection of our chosen condition of collapse into ourselves?.......a reflection of us, we elements of the collective consciousness of Eve and Adam, boldly entering into the act of Creation, Creation no longer an external work of divine art, but Creation now part of us and we part of it.
Coyote! I did get to see her!.....trotting fast…..she’s late…..racing along the south valley path toward the headwall…...stopping only twice to look intently in the direction of the center with its heavy cover of brush. Did the pups behave themselves? Are they still in place? Are they safe, these little fuzzy treasures and reason for her existence.
A following pestering magpie marks the coyote mom’s location as she disappears into the brush. I resist the temptation to follow, this haggard mother having already enough stress.
Thank You! Thank You! Thank You!
There
are no answers in this scene, at least none I can yet understand. But
there is sublime ineffable beauty, Purpose evident even though inscrutable.
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