Grieving and Weaving

Diana Woodcock

No harm in grieving as long as at the same time you are weaving yourself into the earth where miracles still occur—caterpillars still turn into butterflies, and the White-tailed deer give birth each spring to flawless fawns.

Though the times be leaden— overshadowed by Armageddon— be filled with hope and passion. Read the sacred scripture of nature. Be caring and kind to all sentient beings, seeing through their eyes till you realize you are not separate and above. Be filled with love. Everything under the sun is one.

Grieve and weave, though your bit of earth be raw and crusted over. Believe there’s no harm in making allowance for a touch of Darwinian fatalism, but let water flow through your hopes and dreams though you go on living in a desert— the lack of it sparking the very fact of faith and willingness to wait.

Grieve and weave not only into the earth but into the lives of those who work the land—sympathize and empathize with them, become streetwise. Let your eyes look directly at poverty and abuse. Refuse to let go, except of everything you think you know about clouds and love and life.* In spite of all the strife, go on weaving and believing in the midst of you grieving.

*reference to Joni Mitchell’s song, Both Sides Now.