March 1, 2015
It is in our canon that the god of light will rise and fall and god of darkness will rise and fall and this is good.
It is in our canon that the god of color dressed us in feathers, made us vermillion and made the snow white, that we may be seen as we sing, and that come the verdure we join our gold and crimson and violet and blue sisters in chorale.
It is in our canon that the god of seeds, the one god revealed to us feeds us thistle, and sisters Junco and Dove and Chickadee share the feast. And the god returns, his path revealed by the god of light, and he looks to his brother Light and sings to us, his beak pursed, echoing the song, and our sister Chickadee lands on his shoulder and he laughs.
It is in our canon that Goddess of the River is the artery of a heart, and the beating heart is called Oceana and we send her rivulets of snow and fill her gaps and slake her thirst and we bathe in her and our children venerate her and we reflect on the river’s silver and azure blue and its winding plants and our sisters Egret and Heron and Swan, and the song of the heart is “Rivers to the Ocean Run,” and “Gloria,” the streams’ counterpoint.
