The morning wind spreads its fresh smell.
We must get up and take that in,
that wind that lets us live.
Breathe, before it’s gone.
From the collection Unseen Rain: Quatrains of Rumi translated by John Moyne and Coleman Barks Putney, VT: Threshold Books, 1986
music that celebrates Earth and speaks to the heart
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Spiritual journeys in tending the living earth, permaculture, and nature-inspired arts
a magickal dialogue between nature and culture
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An place to read and share stories about the celtic seasonal festivals
Just another WordPress.com site
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Good lives on our one planet
News for the residents of Hopeless, Maine
Contemplative Inquiry 