For some minutes my mind knows only a silent stillness within, a meditation without effort, a celebration of occasion. Slowly my vision focuses on a bird of red-streaked, chocolate-covered feathers and bright orange beak... I have been watching her a long while now without registering, labeling or defining her particular condensation of being, taking her as much for granted as she appears to take me. So beautiful. So natural. A bird in a tree.
Life always begins again.
The Angel of Earth embraces the seed
And gives unto it Life.
The kiss of the Angel of Water
Awakens the seed.
The warmth of the Angel of Sun
Makes the seed grow.
The little plant bends in the breeze–
The Angel of Air makes it grow strong.
The little plant is holy.
It bathes in the Lifestream
Of Eternal Order.