Tonight I crawled on my hands and knees through the grass and ran my fingers through it, and kissed the earth. I felt the interwoven mat of the grass, solidly held together as an interconnected whole, and my soul went down, down into the earth, down into the root-world.

We are emissaries from the roots. We are emanations from the thick and deep. We have emerged up into separation from the whole, in order to speak what the whole must say. We are moments of the grassrooted, knotty, intricate foundation, that swaying prairie-ocean, that thick fund of ancestral unity where all is solidarity and interwovenness so thick there is no separation, and yet still breathing room. We are emissaries with some light to bring, expressions of the deep come up to drink the sun, to say something from the deep with our living. To come up as on the foam, in effulgence and glory. And not just to serve ourselves, though we may find comfort, but for that there is something to say through our living, through our living itself. The rising and falling, the circulation of life up from the depths, and then back down again. As it rises up, taking in glory of sunlight, and then diving back down, like the dolphins in the ocean, like flying fish. Even the whales leap out of the water. That is us, our souls. Oh, to join again in that deep, that wonder. That's what praying is all about, praying as deep imaginal participation in the deep things of this world. We pray to reconnect ; we pray to remember. To know that we are sacred and that we do have a sacred task to carry out.

We are in pain because we are separated, and yet this separateness is our glory to rise! To rise and touch the world of sunlight, and bring some of that sunlight back down. Do not pray for what praying can do for you, but pray for what you may do for the life-world, for it is your separation from that life-world which causes you your pain. We must remember that the world is not here for us but we for the world. That opportunity to serve with the flowering of our talents and joy is our glory. Our lives are not perfect in a world run by giants but we still have the opportunity to participate in something wondrous and larger than ourselves. That gives life meaning, and a meaningful, worthwhile life is one of the greatest gifts, even if it is hard at times.

The Earth matters. Joy and Love are in charge, if we will quit abandoning them to the ice because of greed and technology out of control, and if we will understand that our rationality runs deeper than the analytical mind, for its roots run through the deeper mind that flow down into the moebial twists of Wyrd's ribbons, from whence we are intricately, inextricably a part of all this, the threads of our being cross-stitched onto this rippling warp and woof. We are the rise of the depths itself, the fold of the lower planes emerging up into a wave of ongoing world, crashing down into itself again, ripple upon ripple running across that crenullated fabric of the deeper weave, from whence all hopes emerge. Death is simply the deeper life, and we are its emissaries, to seed this life more superficial with depth of wisdom and energy of greening. It falls down, having risen, and shall rise again.