Morning at the Sanctuary

Stone circle at Mountain Light Sanctuary

 

The first morning light seeps in the diamond windows 
at the Bali House.
All night, accompanying my dreams, the river roars,
punctuated with her bass tones, under the boulders,
guiding me in a language I don’t speak.
“Weee-hooo,” says the first morning bird,
and “Thump!”, a half-eaten apple falls on the deck.
All around, the exuberant vines intertwine
with the butternut and the rhododendron of the woods.
“Safe here!”, they all seem to say,
even the three butterflies who fasten themselves to my shoe.
At three AM the stars blanket the night sky,
reaching their fiery fingers into our dreams.
This morning I gaze into the misted woods,
letting the visions speak to my shadows,
letting go, letting it be exactly what it is.
Barefoot, I feel the cool stones and the dewy grass.
A day on Earth.
The sun streaking through the walls by my bed,
a whisper of thanks unbidden.

Annelinde Metzner
Mountain Light Sanctuary
July 20, 2010

In this poem I honor the Mountain Light Sanctuary, truly a sanctuary in every sense of the word, in a very remote area bordering on the National Forest in Dillingham, North Carolina.  Thanks to Michael Lightweaver for creating and maintaining this healing and rejuvenating spiritual retreat where I can find peace in the sounds of nature.

Garden of the Divine Feminine

Silica seat in the grotto of the Divine Feminine