The Further Enchanted Adventures of Thought and Feeling, Part II: Let’s Play

The Further Enchanted Adventures of
Thought and Feeling

Part II: Let’s Play

By Joseph Anthony

 

One day as
Thought and Feeling were sitting in the garden sipping their morning coffee,
they began debating about who was older. 

“Oh, I am
definitely older than you,” said Thought, “after all, the Creator spoke things
into existence, and words are thoughts expressed into language.”

“Yes,” said
Feeling, “but the Creatrix was the one moving on the face of the deep which
gave the Creator the inspiration to speak.”

Thought pondered
this for a long time and then said, “Yes, but the face of the deep was the
Creator’s mind, and so you could say, I am older.”

“I think the
Creatrix actually sung things into existence,” said Feeling, “and since music
came before speaking, then I’m older.”

“There’s no
proof music came before speaking.  No
dear, if you examine things rationally for just a moment, it only makes sense
that I am the older one.”

“Darling,”
said Feeling setting her coffee cup on the table and then rising to her feet.

“What is it
my Love?”

“Darling,”
she continued, “do you realize how mysterious the exchange we just had is?”

“Yes,” he
said, “I do.  We weren’t created.  We ARE the creators.”

“It’s funny,”
she said, “to make stories up about ourselves and to not realize they’re really
about us for so many years.”

“That is
kind of funny,” said Thought, “now why do you suppose we would do a thing like
that?”

“We like to
play,” said Feeling rubbing Thought’s shoulders.

“Yes!” said
Thought.

Feeling sat
back down and took a sip from her coffee and then smiled slyly.  “Let’s play some more.”

“Good idea,”
said Thought, “Let’s make up a story where you are the beginning and I am the
end and then let’s act that out for a few centuries and then switch parts.”

“Sounds
wonderful,” said Feeling clapping her hands.

And so
Thought and Feeling acted out stories that they made up as they went
along.  You can find detailed
transcriptions of their stories in the poetry, mythology, religion, and
psychology sections of your local library. 
Some of the stories were so inspiring that they were made into entire
histories and these can obviously be found in the history section.  A few of the more humorous ones are sprinkled
in the science section.  Some of their
stories changed over time to suit the particular bias of the teller and these
can be found in the fiction section, although we all know deep down that the
word “fiction” is a fiction, and is, in fact, actually related to an old word
meaning “dough,” as in bread dough.  So
you can find some of Feeling and Thought’s most savory stories in the cooking
section.  The couple of stories that fell
flat can be found in the politics section. 
But the best stories of all, the ones told year after year, can be found
in the children’s section, and most particularly in the fairy tales.

After many
years making up stories and acting them out, Thought finally said, “You know, a
long time ago we began the day debating who was born first—you or me.  And since neither of us remembers being born or
has any recollection of their respective parents then we will have to agree
that the question cannot be answered.”

“Very
logical,” said Feeling, “and I can take it a step further: perhaps in some
cosmic and mysterious way we gave birth to one another at the exact same
moment.”

“That’s far
out,” said Thought, “I can’t even wrap my mind around that one.”

Feeling was
very pleased with herself for having baffled her partner.  But then he said: “How does it feel to not
know where we came from or how we got here?”

Feeling
became silent.  “Thinking?” asked Thought,
leaning in closer on his elbows.

“No,” said
Feeling, “searching.”

Thought gave
her a few moments, and then said, “Baffled?”

“Yes,”
Feeling admitted, “and I’m not sure I like being baffled.”

“Oh,” said
Thought comfortingly, “you just haven’t searched long enough yet.  Your feelings will surface when you’re ready
to embrace them.”

“Yes,” she
said, “I think you’re right.  And I
suppose the more you ponder the idea about us arising together and giving birth
to one another long enough you too will discover words to cloth your thoughts
about this mystery.”

“Thank you,”
said Thought, “let’s help each other.” 
And he offered her his hand.  She
accepted and rose and walked with him through the garden, into their palace,
and then back into bed to make up more stories.

 

 

Copyright Joseph Anthony of the Wonder Child Blog


The Enchanted Adventures of Thought and Feeling, Part I: Getting Acquainted

The Enchanted Adventures of Thought and
Feeling

Part I: Getting Acquainted

By Joseph Anthony

Once within
a time, Thought and Feeling walked side by side on a late evening stroll.

“Look at
those two starlings swooping and dipping over the field,” said Thought.

“It’s thrilling
to watch,” said Feeling, “they’re beautiful.”

“They’re in
the Sturnidae family.”

“I see.”

“Look at
that sunset,” said Feeling, “Those crimsons splashed with purple–so lovely.”

“Are you
weeping?” asked Thought.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Sometimes such
beauty moves me to tears.”

“Interesting,”
said Thought, “I didn’t know the effects of pollution and dust particles in the
air could illicit such reactions.”

“They do for
me,” said Feeling, sniffling a little laugh.

 As they strolled together the shadows
lengthened and the first stars blinked in the navy blue sky, giving birth to the
constellations.  Thought described their shapes
and mythologies and Feeling recited poetry. 
Thought pointed out the North Star and started giving its history and as
he did Feeling looked over at him looking up at the sky and said, “You so much,”
she said, “I’m impressed.”  Thought
brought his gaze to rest on Feeling and looked her in the eye.  “I think it’s brilliant,” he said, “how you
get to the heart of the matter.” 

They both
laughed and continued walking, but this time hand in hand. 

Night
descended, draping her black shawl over the trees.  From within its folds, fireflies emerged and
rose and fell, dancing over the fields. 
Bats fluttered like tattered pieces of shadow loosened from the gossamer
fabric left to hang in the tree tops. 
Deer stepped from the forest and stood looking this way and that over
the swaying grass. 

 “It’s all so beautiful,” Thought said,
stopping to take it all in.  “It feels so…so
holy.”

“I think
it’s beautiful too,” said Feeling, pressing in closer to Thought, “and
definitely holy.”

Thought
looked at her and furrowed his brow slightly. 
“Wait,” he said, “you just said you think
the night is beautiful, and I just said it feels
holy.”

“And?” laughed
Feeling already knowing where he was going in his train of thinking.

“And?” said
Thought, “I think we’re influencing each other, don’t you?”

“Yes,”
Feeling answered, “isn’t it wonderful?”

“Well, I
suppose,” said Thought, “but what happens if we begin influencing each other
too much?”

“What do you
mean, by too much?  Do you mean you’re afraid you might lose
yourself in me?”

After some
silence, Thought nodded and then said, “But that may not be a bad idea.”  And with that he drew her close and kissed
her.  She readily received his attentions
and readily gave him her affections and soon they were rolling in the firefly
dappled field beneath the blushing stars and smiling moon.

They awoke
to a shower of bird song.  They sat up in
the field and shook the grass from their hair. 
They looked at each other and embraced, drenched in iridescent dew.

 “Lovely day,” Feeling said.

“I think
so,” Thought replied.

“How do you
feel?” Feeling asked.

“Wonderful,”
he said, “What do you think about our mingling?”

“Wonderful,”
she said, “I think it’s wonderful.”

“From now on
we are one, woven together in song.”

“Melody and
harmony,” she said, “and our children,” she began…

“And our
children,” he continued, “will be called Freedom and Unity.”

“And they
will grow to become Living Trees that will sustain the world for many
generations,” said Feeling.

“That sounds
lovely,” said Thought.

“I think so
too,” said Feeling.

And with
that they rose together and walked home in the newly born light of a newly born
day. 

Copyright Joseph Anthony of the Wonder Child Blog


Thoughts From the Heart, Part III, The Way of Being

Thoughts
From the Heart, Part III

A
Collection of Random Musings and Inspirations,

By Joseph
Anthony

 

     There
is a way of being who you are that matters most.                                                                                          It is the way of being that
sings of wonder,                                                                                            and a deep
sense of radiant gratitude.     


              

 

As you
walk through the dark woods, open your hand.
                                                                                           Feel
the good spirit slip her hand into yours,                                                                                                and watch the darkness open into
light.


Inside
your heart a seed. Inside the seed your heart.
                                                                                                        From
inside this shared space, alive and breathing,
                                                                                 all things grow into
the world.



Spirit
wears the life of matter as we would wear a silken robe                                                                                        –with delight, dignity, 
and with lavish playfulness.       

Within
matter (mater=mother=earth) spirit lives, flowing                                                                                                    and filling every cell
with sheer and
utter joy.       


                                           


Struggle
isn’t bad, it only feels bad sometimes–it’s actually a blessing.
                                                        Ask
the bird, ask the butterfly, ask the baby learning to walk.         


                                                                      

      


We are
here to unlock the treasures of one another’s hearts.                                                                                     Keys
like kindness, compassion, gratitude, forgiveness,                                                                                                                                    and praise work well.  

“What
of the feeling of impending doom?” asked the old man.                                                                   “Notice
your feet,” said the child, “and then look at your hands.                                                                                                                                       Be here
now.”

 


“Where have you
been?” the old man asked the child.                                                                                       “Sleeping,”
replied the child, “in your heart.                                                                                                                Didn’t you look for me there?”



 

 

 

Copyright Joseph Anthony of the Wonder Child Blog


When God Decided to Invent, A Little Talk on a Poem by E.E. Cummings

When God Decided to Invent

A Little Talk on a Poem by E.E.
Cummings

By

Joseph Anthony

 

I am not an
E.E. Cummings scholar.  I simply like
E.E. Cumming’s poetry, as odd as it can be. 
When I read his poetry doors open, windows open, entire skies bloom in
an instant inside me. This post will be my meditative reflections that came
after reading one of his poems. 

 

Here’s the
poem.  It doesn’t have an official title.
 It was published in 1944.


when
god decided to invent 
everything he took one 
breath bigger than a circustent 
and everything began

when man determined to destroy 
himself he picked the was 
of shall and finding only why 
smashed it into because 

 

First off, I
love Cumming’s joy at creation:

              God takes
one breath “bigger than a circustent
.” 

Those
unfamiliar with Cumming’s poetry need to know that he does a lot of play with
words—completely throwing out conventionalities, spellings, word breaks, and so
on.  Here he simply blends two words
together “circus” and “tent,” and we are given an image of bigness—fun
bigness—extravagant bigness-playful bigness—billowing bigness.

And
everything began.”  It began with
breath.  Just like with us. 

If we are
seeking mental clarity, inner healing, peace of mind, and creativity, then we
need to start at the beginning—with breath. 

The more we
learn to consciously breathe—big breaths (i.e. deep breaths)—from the belly–full,
rich breaths, the clearer we become.  The
more we can breathe and revel in the full funness of life, the deeper and more
nourishing our breaths will become. And the more we consciously breathe, the
more everything begins…again and again…

Yet there
are times we forget to breathe.  And when
people can’t breathe, they lash out—they lose control, trying desperately to survive.  And desperate people do desperate things. 

Some people
are suffocating their dreams, their hearts, and when that happens, things get
smashed to bits.

Notice God
makes the decision to invent. 

A decision
is final.  It is will blossoming into action,
and it is done.

Man, on the
other hand, according to this little poem, determines, which literally means, “to
set bounds or limits (Online Etymology Dictionary).” 

What do we
set limits to?  Our own beliefs—our own
minds and hearts.  We carry limited
beliefs within us that would knock down the circustent. 

These
limited beliefs are in “the was of shall.” 

And “shall”
means, in its roots, “to owe (ibid).” 

So I look at
these words, “the was of shall,” and interpret them to mean:

We set
boundaries on our beliefs due to unresolved memories and issues from our past.  There are amends to be made, forgiveness to
give and forgiveness to seek.  We need to
pay back what we owe.  Clean our side of
the street. 

If we want
freedom, we need to live in the consciousness of now and learn to transform
painful, limiting memories, into healing, creative big-top fun. 

In short, we
must stop living and blaming the past.

What happens
if we don’t?  What happens if we stay
victims and imprisoned by limited beliefs? 
We sink deeper and deeper into the suffocating waters of looking for
answers, into the “why this and why that.” 
And since we can never truly know all the whys, we smash everything up
with justifications and rationalizations. 
We smash it to bits and then, like any angry child does when asked why
he or she did something destructive, we say:

“Because.” 

We don’t
know why (consciously) we do many things we do. 
And thus we stop breathing, and thus we become unconscious. 

Sometimes we
know why we feel angry, we might know why we feel afraid.  Sometimes it makes little difference in the end. Deep
down we know time is ticking.  We’re
throwing away our dreams, and instead of making decisions, we set more and more boundaries
in (and on) our minds and hearts.  Our
minds shrink into prejudices and violently limiting ideologies—about others, about
people we judge, the world, and ourselves.

The solution?
Breathe breaths as big as circustents

Invent
things rather than destroy them. 

Learn to
have fun even in the work of becoming.  (Humanely)
train the animals in your circus (i.e. your passions and your shadowsides) to work for you and with you, and perhaps even, to do tricks.  Use any
odd talents and gifts you have, and shine. 

Even when we
become aware of our limited beliefs, we needn’t destroy or try to resist them,
we can breathe through them with affirmations and positive actions of love
towards self and others thus transforming them instead of waging war against
them.

We can learn
to breathe with child-like joy; with the awe of a child at a circus. 

We can
simply be and rejoice in the lavish play going on before (and within) us.

 

So there you
have it. 

My
reflections and inspirations 

after reading this little poem by E.E. Cummings.

What comes to you? 

I’d love to hear.

Thanks for reading.

Peace and Light, Joseph

 

Copyright Joseph Anthony of the Wonder Child Blog


On the Value of Making Mistakes, A Little Poem to Help Overcome Perfectionism

On the
Value of Making Mistakes

By

Joseph
Anthony

 

Dear Wonder
Child Blog Readers,

What follows
is a little poem I originally wrote 16 years ago for one of my first grade
students who would cry every time she made a mistake in her drawing books.  Since that time I have taught it to every
student I have taught—from first grade through 8th.  Whenever one of my students says, “Oh, no, I
messed up,” I say, “Spilled milk is a mess, my dear, you just made a
mistake.”  And then I start reciting this
poem. 

No matter
what age you are, if you have trouble accepting yourself for making mistakes,
if you think you have to be perfect in everything you do, if you don’t allow
yourself the freedom and dignity to make mistakes, this poem is for you.  Memorize it, post it wherever it might help
you or someone else you love to remember that it is not only OK to make
mistakes, it’s part of the journey, it means you’re up and doing, taking
healthy risks. 

So have fun,
make mistakes, and remember your wonderfulness when you do.

Peace and
Light,

Joseph

 

Kings
and Queens

By Joseph
Anthony

 

Kings
and Queens can never grow,

Without
mistakes to use as guides,

They
help us know the way to go,

And
gold within their heart resides.


 

Copyright Joseph Anthony of the Wonder Child Blog


Haiku From the Heart III

Haiku
From the Heart III

 

You are a blessing ~
to the world and to the Light ~ shine sunflower, shine

 

Open your hands ~
let all your worries go ~ now set your hands to praising

 

Empty your worries ~
into love’s radiant stream ~ and be filled with Light

 

Spring flowers
rejoice ~ in simply being themselves ~ sharing who they are


 

Lavender wishes ~ dreams blossom in sleepy minds ~ bathed
in silver light

 

Angels from on high ~ descend into dreamer’s sleep ~ bringing
down the stars

 

Sleep has found my eyes ~ my mind however still hides ~ running
through the night

 

The moon is loosened ~ from blossoming spring tree tops ~
free to light the way

 

Fire hides within wood ~ just as heaven does in me ~
nature reveals truth

 

The empty chair fills ~ with a spirit lost and sad ~ I
reach out my hand

 

Explore the shadow ~ discover your golden mean ~ spiral
into light

 

As true as the dawn ~ as you sow, so shall you reap ~
loving begets love

 

Copyright Joseph Anthony of the Wonder Child Blog


In Praise of the Light

In
Praise of the Light

 

Light in my body,
Light in my mind,

Light in each moment
and blessing I find,

Light in my heart
and Light in my hands,

Light where I’m
going and Light where I stand,

Light in each cell
and Light in each word,

Light in each deed
and all that is heard,

Light in you and Light
in me,

Light in everything
I see
,

Light in my plans
and Light in my dreams,

Light in my soul
where Light does stream
,

Light in my wounds
and Light in my pain,

Light in my sorrow
and springtime rain
,

Light in my healing
and Light in my breath,

Light in my living
and Light in my death
,

Light in forgiveness
and Light in the past,

Light in the shadows
that evening casts
,

Light in my doubts
and Light in my worries,

Light in my steps
that needn’t be hurrie
d,

Light in my doing
and Light in my knowing,

Light in my purpose
steadily growing
,

Light in my
stumbling, Light in my dancing,

Light in my pausing
and Light in my chancing
,

Light in the
darkness of doubt and fear,

Light in gratitude,
hope, and cheer
.

 

Copyright Joseph Anthony of the Wonder Child Blog


Breathing Lessons 3

Breathing
Lessons 3

 

Imagine
breathing

With your
mind.

Imagine
cool, clean air

Circulating
through your thoughts.

Imagine
healing oxygen

Filling
your mind

With peace.

Now
imagine breathing

With your
heart.

Let your
heart be soothed

With calm,
gentle breaths.

Let your
heart be held

By hands
of breath and Light.

Let it
beat easy, nestled

In fresh,
vanilla-scented air.

Lastly,
imagine breathing

With your
soul.

Let the
open space

Of the
blue sky

Illuminate
your soul,

Letting
it breathe creativity,

Insight,
intuition

In and
out

With certainty
and grace.

Now
that you can

Imagine
breathing with your mind,

Heart,
and soul,

Do it
for real,

Let it
be so.

Let your
whole being

Be filled
with Life

And with
the laughter

Of pure
joy.

Copyright Joseph Anthony of the Wonder Child Blog


Thoughts From the Heart II

Thoughts
From the Heart II

A
Collection of Random Musings

And Inspirations

*

We are all Lightworkers. With every breath, 

with every act and thought of love,

we have worked with the medium of
Light.

 

Walk through your doubts while breathing
in Light, and as the Light fills you,

illuminating your mind, breathe out the doubts.


 

In addition to exhaling anything
you want to let go of, try exhaling

as a way of sharing your love, creativity, and forgiveness.

 

Breathe with your whole body, and
breathe in more than just oxygen

–breathe in love, beauty,
creativity, forgiveness, the sky.


 

Being able to be the still point
in the
storm, the hub of the wheel,

has more to do with how one
breathes than anything else.

 

Create yourself a wonderful day
and share it with others as you go along.

 

Just as we create dreams from our
minds when we sleep,

so too do we create our lives
while we’re awake.

Think positive thoughts.

 

When I asked for news from my
first graders, one of them said:

“My rose tree is
blooming.”

 

Just as the darkness gives way to
birdsong, so too your sorrow will give way to joy

as you awaken to the blessings
around and within you.

 

Be like the dawn and lift the veil
of darkness.

With every breath and every
movement towards your desires,

it lifts, revealing more Light.

 

Copyright Joseph Anthony of the Wonder Child Blog


Green Man and the Holy Child, A Story for Earth Day 2013

 I first published this story almost two years ago.  In honor of Earth Day 2013, I am republishing it again with a few minor alterations.  Enjoy, and Happy Earth Day!


Green Man and the Holy Child

by

Joseph Anthony

The Little Girl leaned in close staring at the mass of upturned earth and roots that had formed at the base of the fallen birch.  There it was: a face; a man’s face, green-hued, eyes closed, sunken deep into the vast system of roots, soil, and lichen.  She looked at the face for several minutes, both fascinated and horrified (more fascinated than horrified though).  She studied it; wondering just how it got there.  And when he suddenly opened his eyes she fell backwards into the ferns.  And when a moss covered arm stretched towards her, she screamed.  And when he spoke, sending bits of earth and lichen scattering into the air, she couldn’t believe her ears.

 

“Please,” he whispered, his voice soaked with earth and shadows, “I mean you no harm.  Our world will be doomed if you do not come.”

She stepped closer searching his gold-flecked eyes.  They were ancient and filled with a sorrow so visible it cut right through her fear and went straight to her heart.

 

“Why do you need me?” she asked.

 

You know about circles,” he smiled, little white moths fluttering from his mouth as he spoke.  “You are careful where you walk.  You touch with your eyes and hands with reverence and kindness.  You give my people secret names and run your fingers through the tops of the ferns like your mother running her hands through your hair.  I’ have heard you telling stories to the salamanders and to the stones in the creek.  I heard you use foul language when you found the pile of beer bottles and fast food wrappers by the pond.  I saw you carry the trash home.  And,” he said, lowering his voice, looking into her eyes with a smile, “my bride saw you lay your hands on the wounded deer and heal him.”  The Girl blushed.  

 

“OK,” she said, “but that doesn’t answer my question.  Why is your world doomed?  And who are you?”

 

“Forgive me, I am Green Man, Father of the Earth.  And I misspoke a moment ago.  I should have said, “OUR worlds will be doomed if you do not come.”

 

“But why?” she said, almost shouting, “Why will they be doomed?”

 

“Disillusionment,” he said with bits of leaves falling from his lips.  “There are so few in my world who believe in your kind anymore–so much destruction, poisoning, and senseless ravaging.  There are many in my world who want to destroy your race.  But they don’t understand the circles like you and I.   And so I thought you could teach them.”

 

“Me?”

 

“Yes.  They hardly listen to me anymore.  So I thought if they heard about the circles from one of your kind—one they can trust—then perhaps they would reconsider their plan of destruction.  Besides, my bride, the Green Woman, or, as you call her, Mother Earth, thinks it’s a good idea.  After she saw that deer spring back to its legs and bound away into the woods, she told me if anyone could save us—it would be you.”

 

The Little Girl closed her eyes for several minutes.  The woods hushed to hear her reply.  She knew what she would do.  She took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and then reached out placing her hand in his.  She half expected his arm to crumble like a rotting log, but instead it was strong and powerful.  He smiled and she noticed tears forming in the corners of his eyes like dew forming in the grass.

 

“Now what?” she asked.

 

“We go in,” said Green Man, “this is a door.”

 

“Will it hurt going through? It looks so crowded.”

 

“No child, the door will widen for you.  It will not hurt.  Tickle perhaps, maybe a few little scratches, but nothing serious.” 

 

“Shall we?” He asked.

 

She nodded and then he pulled her through the roots and earth.  She felt sticks and cool, moist dirt pass through her.  A few twigs got stuck in her hair and more than one stone bumped her sides.  The finer roots combed through her body and her soul, removing any last doubts she may have had about herself.

 

When they arrived on the other side she saw a world of brilliant green infused with golden hues.  There were eyes everywhere—every leaf, flower, tree, rock had eyes.  All of them watched her curiously.  Most looked suspicious.  Some filled with tears when they saw her.

 

As they walked hand in hand she saw Green Man’s full body for the first time.  It was completely draped in moss and leaves.  It trailed vines and clumps of earth and stood over 9 feet tall.  His arms and legs were covered with lichen and sticks, leaves and bits of white, curling bark.  His hair was one big mass of ferns and his back was dotted with mushrooms.  She smiled and somehow felt safer than she had ever felt before.

 

“Where are we going?” she asked.

 

“To the council,” he said, stopping suddenly.  Someone was running towards them.

 

“My bride,” he shouted, “what is it?”

 

“It’s begun,” Green Woman said, her voice trembling.

 

“What?!” Green Man shouted, “I was not there for the final vote!”

 

“The council did not want to wait for your return.” Green Woman said.  “They did not think she would come.”  The Green Woman looked down at the Little Girl with eyes dark as night.  “But I knew she would.”

 

The Little Girl looked up and felt as if she were looking into Mother Nature Herself, which indeed she was.

 

Green Woman looked a little like her groom, only her hair was studded with morning glories and her dress of vines and leaves flowed like an elegant river of a thousand shades of rippling green.

 

“We must hurry,” said Green Man.

 

“Is it too late?” the Little Girl said.

 

“There is no such thing as too late,” Green Man said, “nonetheless, we must hurry.”

 

 He swept down and lifted the Little Girl onto his shoulders.  She felt as if she were riding a walking tree.

 

They ran along the grass covered street.  Flowers and trees ran after them on their legs of roots.  Rocks tucked their faces in and began rolling along side them.  Frogs, toads, deer, bears, and many other animals followed with them.  When the Little Girl looked behind them she even saw a river flowing towards them with fish leaping in and out of the water as it moved.

 

Meanwhile, back in the Little Girl’s world, trees were snatching unsuspecting hikers and hurtling them down mountains or devouring them instantly in gaping mouths.  The ground was opening beneath the boots of loggers.  Roots with inescapable grasps were grabbing the ankles of fishermen standing along the riverbanks.  Backyards with swing sets and swimming pools suddenly disappeared in massive sink holes.  Entire rows of houses lifted, heaved, and feel backwards into the waiting crunching mouths.  Storms ignited over lakes and golf courses, sending lighting’s death-inducing fingers crawling everywhere like electric spiders.  Within minutes thousands world over were gone.

 

Green Man burst open the doors of the council.

 

“How dare you!” He shouted.  “How dare you dishonor me by acting without my voice!  I demand you stop the destruction at once and hear my witness!”

 

The room was filled with enormous mushrooms and trees—all with staring eyes.  Some of the members bent over scratching crooked letters in tablets of stone. 

 

And when the council saw the Girl it fell silent.  She scrambled down Green Man, brushed herself off and walked confidently into the center of the room. She looked back where Green Man and Green Woman stood.  They nodded.  She bent down and all eyes followed her as she lifted a small stone the size of an almond to her face and whispered something to it.  “Thank you,” she said to the stone and then stood up, and to the amazement of the council members, walked behind their chairs and began drawing on the smooth, hard wood floor. 

 

“Is this OK?” She asked the floor.

 

“Yes,” it whispered like a snake, “Yesss.”

 

Slowly and carefully she inscribed a huge circle around them all.  And when she was finished she stood and turned, looking each council member in the eye.

 

“You are blind,” she began, “for every one of my kind that you remove, you lose one tree, flower, or stone.  And my people are just as blind.  For every tree we remove, a person somewhere, someplace, dies.  And so it ever shall be.  You see,” she continued, gaining momentum and strength as she felt Green Man and Green Woman watching her, “we were spoken from the same Word.  The same Word that sang you sang us.  We are formed from the same soil and when the Creator breathed Spirit into us, He breathed Spirit into you.  We are bound with unbreakable bonds.  And so I say again, if you destroy us, you destroy yourselves.”

 

She paused looking around the great room, and before anyone could respond to what she had just said, she started again.

 

“The opposite is also true.  When one of my kind plants a tree or a flower, one of my kind is born in some other part of the world.  When one of my kind is born one of your kind blossoms or hatches from a seed.”

 

“Is all of this true?” interrupted one of the members, “why were we not informed?”

 

“It is.” She replied, “and you were informed.  You knew.  Everyone and everything knows we are connected.  It is just so many of us refuse to believe it.” 

 

Just then the doors to the council room were thrown open and in strode an army of silver and white birch trees, each one carrying a dead tree in its giant branches. 

 

The council members rose and gasped. 

 

One of the birches held a dead sapling, and cried, “Stop the destruction!  For every one of the humans we destroy one of our kind falls.”

 

“So it’s true,” whispered the council. 

 

And as the council members erupted into loud discussions, the Little Girl began walking from dead tree to dead tree, touching their petrified faces.  One by one the dead trees rose up verdant green.  Each one she healed bowed to her and began forming a circle around her.  The council fell silent as they watched her resurrect the fallen trees.  She laughed as the trees entwined their branches and began dancing in a great circle of green around her.  The spruce trees began playing violins that they formed instantly from their own branches.  The bamboo trees kept time clapping their hands like claves.  The rivers flowed around them in rhythm to the music.  All of the animals joined in.  Green Man and Green Woman joined hands and spun around sending twigs and leaves and butterflies sailing around the room.  And the council rose as one and sent word to all corners of the earth to stop the destruction.  It also sent out all the rivers to begin flowing backwards until time turned back to just before the destruction began restoring everything and everyone to its proper, living place.

 

And while there was still work to be done, much progress was made that day by Green Man, his bride, and a Little Girl who knew a great deal about circles.


Copyright Joseph Anthony of the Wonder Child Blog