My favorite ceremony is the wild, messy kind, the woven into ordinary life kind, the wander out the door at dawn in mud boots and offer bread to the birds kind.
My favorite kind of ceremony is happening all the time, an open invitation to kneel in the wet grass and breathe in the lilies-of-the-valley for the short season they’re here.
To place a square of chocolate in the crook of the dogwood and imagine the delight of the squirrel who finds it.
To greet the branches by name – Leaping Elk, Little Sister, Silvermoon – each one a distinct presence and part of an astonishing whole.
My favorite ceremony asks for no solemnity, no regalia, knows no right way,
just here, now, me, us, and a secret purpose to bless everything.
Beautiful, as usual. Keep writing, please.
I feel deeply satisfied Kate. For me this poem is direct, sweet, reverent. (And of course there is the New moon magic too.) thank you