Magical Miracle of You

This time of year, we hear lots of hooting from the Great Horned Owls that live behind our house. Often, we notice two, and at first they’re in different trees, separated by a few hundred feet. As the sun lingers longer each day, the owls linger closer to each other.

One day, both owls are on the same branch, the next day they are beside each other.

Then they are gone.

The same process happens with the kingbirds who, years ago, established a nest in a corner of our front porch. Unlike the owls who appear stationary, the kingbirds fly back and forth with building materials, discussing every aspect of roost remodeling. Once eggs are laid, they continue to conduct shrill small talk, while the owls are hunting far from us and barely make a hoot when they’re home.

All of this to produce new life.

Every new baby owl and kingbird is unique. They will grow up and fly away to lead independent lives relying on the gray matter in their skulls to guide them to food, shelter and mates.

No other owl will have the experiences of the owls raised here this year, and when they’re gone, there will never be another of that individual.

This is the same of all faunae on our planet: whales, salmon, lynx, Canada geese and domestic geese, wolves and greyhounds, squirrels, rabbits, voles and snakes. Every baby born, even if it has twins or nestmates, has its own awareness. It will encounter life in its own way, and when it’s gone, its exclusive experience will end.

This is the incredible magic of Earth.

Through a weird set of circumstances—distance from a sun, amount of water, amount of oxygen, vulcanization—to name just a few—life has been created, unique consciousnesses have been born, entire lives have been lived and conceived more.

Trillions+ of people were made before me, yet I acquired the ability to think at this precise moment in Earth’s history.

And, if you’re reading this, so did you.

You received the magic gift of cognition, just like every human including, among others, your relatives, arctic explorers and sculptors, accountants and movie stars, Biden and Trump, Russians and Chinese, Neolithic people and ancient Greeks, Zoroastrians and astronauts.

Every baby born is a marvel, but so is every consciousness endowed. As spring approaches, take a few minutes to observe the owls and kingbirds and other babies in your neighborhood, and also to celebrate the unique cognitive-power-engine miracle of YOU! 

Originally published in Mid-Week Message, First United Methodist Church of Alamosa, 8 February 2023.

 

A Poem on Commission

I was asked by a member of our church to write a poem about the Earth.

"What?!?!" I cringed. I'm not a poet.

Turns out, I had brought this on myself. On Earth Day, we were given index cards to write an idea for how to celebrate or save the Earth. Since I'm a writer, I wrote: "Have people write poems about the Earth."

The church member said, "You wrote it on that card, so can you write a poem about the Earth and present in two weeks?"

Gulp!

"Okay."

Since this is a writing blog, among other things, I decided to share it, in draft form, with the universe. Here is the second mostly polished draft of my poem.

A Prayer From the Earth

My sentient beings,

My darling children,

My best beloveds;

You are crying,

You are angry,

You are afraid.

You are afraid for yourselves, and

You are afraid for me who sustains you.

You do not need to be afraid for me.

I have endured for eons of your time, and

       will endure for eons more.

It seems I am tenacious.

I will tell you a story about my strength.

Once upon a time,

       hundreds of millions of your years,

I was robust.

Life thrived in my oceans and waterways.

Life was abundant and growing in my grassy swards.

Life flew in my crisp, clean air.

In my beginnings I had been so alone, so lonely.

By that time, I was filled with the joyfulness of abundant life.

How proud I was.

How lucky I felt!

As you, my darlings with brains, have learned, joyfulness and pride are fleeting.

In one single moment, everything changed.

On that day, a huge rock, (from what you call outer space), hurtled through my atmosphere.

__

Let's hold hands, darlings, for this next part of my story

       is blacker than your darkest night frights,

       more horrible than your worst monster imaginings,

       more heartbreaking than any loss you have suffered.

Remember, as you become fearful, that I am here

       to tell you about this terrible time.

I am here because I survived.

__

The alien rock burst through my atmosphere –

       the atmosphere I had built up over millions of eons and

       that supported all the life I was so proud of.

It burst through and slammed into me.

It was bigger than my moon.

It was as uncaring.

It sent dirt flying across me, clogging all my waterways.

It sent ocean water smashing across me, drowning all the land.

It sent sulphur into my air, poisoning my atmosphere.

This strike by an outsider was so  powerful that I could have gone reeling --

       away from the moon,

       away from the sun,

       away from my home.

But by some miracle, I did not.

I was still home, circling my sun with my moon circling me.

But I was mortally wounded.

Nothing lived, nothing was sustained by me.

I was near death.

__

Life as I had known it, ended that day.

What little survived, was poisoned by sulphurous air.

Time, by any measure, ceased to exist.

__

__

My fatigue was excruciating.

Yet, molecule by molecule, the sulphur dissipated.

Water dripped and slid and splashed through my roughened landscape.

Somehow, I was tenacious.

One day a tiny blade of grass poked up through dirt from across the globe

       and made oxygen.

Another day a tiny lizard popped out of its egg that had tumbled in the ocean

       and made its way to shore,

       to live beside the blades of grass.

Another day a lizard's front legs sprouted wings

       and it flew up high.

        

Life forms grew.

I began to heal. I was healing. I healed.

__

I was different.

No more giant, egg-laying dinosaurs (as you call them).

But instead, hairy mammals who bore their young live and chattered at them.

Instead, new land forms and new oceans.

Instead, varied, vigorous, innovating life.

Somehow, out of my near destruction, came you, my darlings,

       my best beloveds.

It seems I can't help but sustain life.

I am indefatigable.

__

And now, because you are aware, you are afraid.

You're afraid that with so many of you,

       you are draining my resources.

You are.

You're afraid that you are poisoning my waterways and land forms.

You are.

You're afraid you are depleting my atmosphere.

You are.

But you are not an uncaring alien rock.

You have not come close to destroying me like the rock.

Even now, at this most desperate moment,

       you are aware of me

       and you care about me.

You have the power to correct the destruction you have wrought,

       and you are using that power every day.

Do not despair.

My darlings, I have faith in you.

Now please, have faith in me.

I am tenacious.

I am indefatigable.

I endure.

I heal.

So will you.