Monday, October 15, 2012

At the altar


Between his dimpled fingers poke supple stems and points of maple leaves—gold, wine, russet. We sit on the floor close to the deck door screen on a warm autumn day, me Indian style, he nestled between my torso and legs. It is a day when wind dips the trees the way I dipped him earlier when we danced and he laughed. My hair blows against his cheek, and he sedately rakes fingers through it. It is a day when it doesn’t matter if you sweep or rake; the plentiful leaves that remain on trees across these farms keep being blown off and must be abandoned. They blow against windows and doors and catch in the five inches of space between the glass and screen when someone goes in or out. So now we sit at the screen as at an altar with a row of moist leaves within reach before us. He plucks two and squeezes them in each baby fist, then turns and rotates them elegantly like Martha Graham as if to remind them that they were once attached to trees. He swipes ruffles of leaves puckering out from his fingers across his mouth, which is open just enough for his tongue-tip to form a soft bud with his lips. I pick up and show him another leaf; he takes it after releasing one from his fist. The earth has given them to us and said Take, eat, this is my body broken for you. We thank her in the ceremony of the leaves.

21 comments:

  1. "This do in remembrance of me." I hope it's not too late for us to save Her.

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  2. Lovely, Ruth. What wonderful gifts you are creating and leaving for Baby James, gifts that will grow in value to him as we, like those autumn leaves, are blown randomly through the seasons of our lives.

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    1. Thanks, George. I'm convinced that we all have these gifts inside; James is making me aware of them. I am so very grateful.

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  3. If only we would all remember to thoroughly examine things and life the way a baby does.

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  4. how many feelings and revelations sweep through me upon reading this, the unbelievable body and spirit born in this baby against you, equally as unbelievable in body and spirit, the unforgiving fact that the leaves must keep being blown and abandoned. the lightness and absolute march of this gentle passing is so painful and what gives to us poignancy and beauty. this is indeed an altar, the threshold, and what else can we do but enjoy in our sentience, leaves at our mouths, and then let go?

    how badly this causes me to want to have more babies, have my body be a part of the world like the field, like the tree, and in my sentience revel in our being here, and in our passing))

    xo
    erin

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    1. Erin, no one told me that a grandbaby is the secret to enlightenment. : )

      But seriously, when I follow him, he shows me newnesses, because he is so taken with everything. I am in love with him, and with the world when he looks upon it. I even love myself more as he loves me. What a fragile yet powerful wonder this is. xoxo

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  5. What a beautiful picture you two create!

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    1. Thank you, Rosaria. The best relationships are the ones that make us better individuals. I'm elated.

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  6. yes. the utmost purity of receiving mother nature's intention lies in the fist of a babe. i see you and he, sitting at this altar and saying, thank you.

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    1. Amanda, he's been taken with her since he was four months old. And that has in turn increased my attention to her.

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  7. Ruth this is so true about Autum. As I drove to Grand Rapids yesterday my eyes could not stop looking at the trees and watching the leaves blow off and the wind carry them as if they were in a dance with the wind. I felt the trees gives back to the earth each year almost an offering.

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    1. Liz, I didn't know you live in Michigan! My drives to Grand Rapids (to be with my grandson) have been the most beautiful of my life, and I grew up here. I have never seen a more fabulous fall color season.

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  8. The earth, offering her bounty... and a babe (and a grandmother) a feast for all! BOTH seeing with new eyes... I LOVE this. Your prose, perhaps even more beautiful than your poetry.... Thank you for coming back to us ;)

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    1. Margaret, your kind responses are very special, thank you. And thank you for following me here to this quieter space.

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  9. I am reading this just before I am off to commune with nature for a bit....I will have your words in my mind as I walk:)

    It is wonderful to watch a baby see the world with new eyes, hands, mouth...

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    1. GailO, I really love sharing this time with you, as we explore the world through James's and Charlie's eyes. : )

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  10. I love to read about Baby James, and Grandma, and Nature. With the three combined in one prose poem, it's delectable. It's been a while Ruth since I've commented, but you've been on my mind all this time. Just to let you know, I've started birdwatching this autumn, and have my senses sharpened. Nature has so much to offer. Baby James is blessed to be nurtured by a love of Nature and Life.

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    1. Hello, Arti, it's wonderful to see you! And delightful to know you are birdwatching. I wish you patience and understanding as you slow yourself this way. Maybe James and I will become birdwatchers too.

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  11. My four-month-old is cooing, shrieking, giggling with her granny, while the grandpa is listening on the phone. A communion with nature, its beauty and gentle silence must come next. Naturally. It is lovely to come back to read you, Ruth. It's been a long while.

    Priya

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All responses are welcome.