Donations will be used to provide scholarships for people to attend Joanna's workshops.

Search Site
English Arabic French Hindi Italian Japanese Korean Portuguese Romanian Russian Spanish Latvian Ukrainian Turkish

Councils of All Beings

Full Moon Speaks: The Promise of Things Not Yet Born

In a slow, steady rocking chair
a mother nurses her child.
I bathe her in my light.

I touch gently also
the cheek of the soldier who will never
be younger
than he is now
catch the tear
that waits
in the pause
of his shocked eye

Tonight I shine as full as I ever will.

Tomorrow the descent
toward darkness
will already have begun

So I will give what light is mine to give
like motherís milk
from full breasts.

I will take you in my arms
I will hold you in my lap
against my round belly
so full of the promise
of things not yet born
and things not yet dead.

We will cherish this moment before it is gone.

Tonight I will rock you in the cradle of
silver oceans
pulling on threads that stretch to their
and to the secret seas of women.
You will see me in an old womanís
long white hair
and the fine filaments
of the spiderís web
that mirrors the lines
on the Great Croneís face

In my gentle fearless lapping
I will call you out from your hiding places
from the cramped quarters where
you blow on meager coals

I will bring you forth on
frostbitten hands and knees
you will gaze at each other in awe
my reflected light in your eyes,
and you will be transformed.

You will know this moment in all
its broken possibility
has been given to you in greatest trust
and is already passing from
your fingers
leaving the smell of saltwater
and the cry of seabirds
and the cloudy image
of what might have been

look to me!
Look to my coming,
my waxing
Look upon my milky face
drink deeply my light that
comes and goes
and comes once more.

Take heart, fearful ones!
Be loved
my sweet,
scared children!

Do not fear your shining
nor its passing
but shine, shine into the dying of the light!
and then turn gently
into that good night!

The darkness will hold you --
it must --

just as the womb
holds our dearest dreams,
and with

- Rebekah Still

Glacier Speaks

Humans - hear me!
I speak for the glacier beings:
ice and gravel, crevasse, snowbridge,
rushing water.

Watch how we move. May watching bring you peace.
Think of the making of mountains, gorges,
ponds, rivers without end.
That is how we move.
Bonded together, turning over time,
great and lasting forms.

Our glacier ways are the old ways.
We are kin to the dew on the grass, the icicles
hanging from your gutters, the irrigation for your"
farmlands, the bubbles in your fountains.
Crystal and vapor are beautiful ways
we touch the face of the earth.

Two-legged beings, frantic and sad ones,
follow my path downstream from the mountains,
cascade and river current, flowing through marshes
and out to sea. Taking that journey over and over
I pass by you as cloud and rain and snow.
You are the frozen ones, believing yourselves
apart from each other and other life forms.

With your ears, listen for the voices
deep inside the glacier. They will teach you songs of
the power of melting.

- Anne Wescott


Gorilla Speaks: Message to the Naked Ones

I see you, naked Ones

out of my big, brown, sad eyes

I see you

with your spindly limbs,

lack of fur

clever fingers

thin necks

big heads

I see you and I am puzzled.

I am Mountain Gorilla
and I am on my way out.
Farewell naked Ones -
you may soon be the last primates left.
Grieve with me little Ones,
grieve with me and hope
that you can bear the pain of our loss
and the pain of your loneliness.
I am Mountain Gorilla, the gentle One
I do not kill, I do not destroy, I do not attack unprovoked.
Do not fasion me into the image of what you fear in yourselves.
I am no King Kong.
I am peaceful and patient, I forage and chew leaves.
I live in family and close to the earth.
All I need for survival is community and space.
And there doesn't seem to be enough space for you on this planet little Ones.
How can that be?
I see you, naked Ones, and I am puzzled.
I see your pain and your confusion and I wonder.
I wonder how you forgot

that the ground, the grass, the earth

longs for the touch of your naked feet,

how the rain loves to caress your skin,

how the wind enjoys playing with your hair.

I wonder when you forgot that we are siblings and that you are loved.

Yes - despite everything you are loved.

Wake up! Remember!

Remember that community is more important than things.
Remember that and you might yet survive.

I will not.

I am Mountain Gorilla.

Remember me well.

Let me go gracefully.


- Martin Dronsfield