earth ripples alive in her golden skin as wheat ripens under summer sun, pulses to fullness fattened by rain and wild airs. bronze rods of barley brushed by the weather, shimmer in fields of light as corn mother moves amongst us. her fertile body is swollen with grain, sheaf after sheaf—enough to bring bread to the whole planet, even to famine, if we work with the climate, tend our fields as holy places, share with those who lack as an act of Compassion. her belly is big with promise, with miracles, wonders, but our shadows stretch long on the harvest acres as we eat up the land. At the heart of the eleusinian mysteries lay a single grain of wheat—sun-energy so small, holding the future.
- rose flint © mother tongue ink 2013 [emphasis mine]
i am a hunter of beauty and i move slow and i keep eyes wide, every fiber of every muscle sensing all wonder and this is the thrill of the hunt and i could be an expert on the life full, the beauty meat the lurks in every moment.
— ann voskamp | via awelltraveledwoman [emphasis mine]
posture + gaze. | via: kevc
damn, what happened? when i looked down there was a bee clinging to my running tights - stinging - that undeniable burn with chills. double damn. and then the deluge while trying to hail a taxi, with water up to my ankles. awesome. but it’s still a good day. somehow it is. and now the sun is out. everything changes - sometimes quickly. thank goodness for that. monday.
simple, beautiful. available at herriott grace.
posture + gaze. dancing more than ever these days. deep bow to the act and art. so grateful for those early childhood lessons that turned into fuel for growth and understanding. empowerment. | via pinterest: awelltraveledwoman)