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Love Letter to the HUB

July 15, 2020 (morning in the teepee) 
Thank you for your kindnesses.  It has truly touched our spirits and warmed them. I am reminded of abundance and that there are gifts all around. Truly, stumbling upon this beautiful group of family and community is one of those gifts; is the magic that abounds.

I am so grateful for the water and shelter given to us, two smelly strangers.
The Hopewell Hub has left a dancing imprint on my heart. 
I am leaving you with a little poem I wrote as I watched the sun travel downwards in the field begind your beautiful gardens. 
Love and Light
Cadence {and Nic}

Prayer flags are always tattered, washed out pale blowing threads in the wiind Slowly winding past fields of red clover,
I think of ovarian cancer
I think of healing leaves,
white mark checked in the fuzzy arrows
pointing downwards towards the root
tethering to sustain, imbilical cord yearning against severance.
Passing lifeless bodies along the raodside I say a prayer of honoring thanks, pondering the language so crude as to describe a life leaving material earth vessel as 'road kill'
reduction to point, numbing the impact of energy release.
Turning heads as the chord is severed,
never speaking about it later.
But we are starting to life our gaze- the bowing heads of barley, softening the wind
unveils a facet of perspective unattainable to the beehive mind
when it slows the wind can be heard or speaking other than blowing.
"Don't resist. Don't resist."
I am offered water and then shelter in the grass, learning to speak to the bears in humble permission. 
A forest can shelter and pylons can tower a buzzing lullaby of crossing wires.
Violence is only peace unheard.
I think of cows grazing. I think of cows stampeding. 

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