Labyrinth as Fractal

Today I walked the labyrinth with a friend for the first time in quite a while. Little did I know that in that one simple act I would experience the fullness and the heart of all that is Prairiewoods. We walked through the woods on the way to the labyrinth, in golden light, and felt…

Shards of Ancient Energy

Why does the willow weep? Why do pears grow in pairs? Do bees pray on their knees? How do Susans get black eyes? Who packs the parachutes the seeds of milkweed need? A face in the bark was looking back at me. Shards of ancient energy. When does old become ancient? —Diane Wheeler Dunn, friend…

Late Fall on the Prairie

The prairie sings in late summer Trilling yellow in the sun Bees buzzing everywhere But I don’t think I’ve heard more Harmony rolling up from the land Than today, October rain turning everything Into a hundred shades of luminous honey From cinnamon to sienna to amber, the sweet hum Of late fall. —Carol Tyx, Prairiewoods…

Let It Be: Re-Wilding Spirituality for the Wider “We”

The concept of “re-wilding” creation takes its cues from a philosophy of “Nature knows best,” by restricting human interference in creation’s own healing as an approach to ecological restoration and wholeness. Eminent biologist E.O. Wilson (1929–2021) had proposed—provocatively—setting aside and protecting half the biosphere for nature to heal and regenerate, and thus restoring balance to a human-befouled…

Choose

We all choose our way To embrace or reject The kin of the park The kin of the pack Standing as tall arbor elders Rock jumping as Sierra Fence lizards Not as master or leader, but as collaborative guide of compassion to nurture and hold that which breathes, that breathes the breath of life here…

Toward a Thriving Future

“Values according to which we conduct our lives will shape the future.” —Jeremy Lent, The Web of Meaning, p. 5 So what are the values that enliven Prairiewoods? What is the future emerging here? For that I look to the core values of the Franciscans who founded Prairiewoods so many years ago. Respect—We honor one…

Journey

On a September retreat at Prairiewoods, the trees woke me up. Just outside my second-story guest house window, they were shaking their heads wildly. In the background I could hear the rumble of thunder. It was past midnight, and now it was Mary Oliver’s birthday, September 10. Pieces of her poem “The Journey,” that I…