A Letter of Thanksgiving

Dear Mother Nature, 

Thank you for the inspiration I find in the flora when I have the eyes to see, the nose to smell, the ears to hear, the tongue to taste, and the sensitivity to feel. 

Thank you for inspiring me with the courage of the armored green bud on the thorny rose bushes, on the Ipomoea Indicia vines who rise to morning’s glory, on the tall leggy stocks of the Canna lily, and those riotous amongst the bushes and the brush behind an unkempt shed on neighboring land. 

Dwelling, 

swelling in deep 

sacred 

rest to gather her energy for her 

Becoming. 

Thank you for showing me the courage to crack open to a new dawn, a new day. 

Opening to the unknown and the unexpected into a world, She could never have imagined into the 

fresh air 

blue sky 

or perhaps a 

cloudy-sky-cold-and-rainy kind of day? 

The cool rain upon soft, vulnerable, tender 

innards inwards in 

through the crack 

of a fresh barely 

cracked, bare 

bud baring 

her heart. 

“Drink, drink, drink; drink up, Little One!” So She silently sips that splendid swill offered by the sky and the clouds and the oceans and the sun and the birds and the bees and and and 

and the Universe. 

This cracking open is thirsty work — have something to drink, have something to eat. Be nourished by delight and surprise.

Thank you for the inspiration of the bud’s courage to emerge into the unknown; to 

s l o o o o o w l y 

unfold her petals one by one by one by one by one by one as layer after layer after layer after armored layer 

of green naivety peels away. And the 

delicate pink and 

the delicate white, 

the delicate every-color-you-can imagine, 

regardless of fright, 

all peak a little more, 

a 

little 

more.

For a little flower who chooses to follow her fascinations over her fears begins to see beyond herself. She sees her sister blossoms and sister buds – on the very same vine on the very same bush – encouraging the younger sister buds and the older sister buds, “Come out it’s okay!” and looking up to her fully bloomed sisters in their full skirts and colorful dresses. Looking up in dazzling wonder and awe at 

The beauty mirroring her own potential…

laitnetop nwo reh gnirorrim ytuaeb ehT

And so She perseveres through the weather of the day, the season of the cycle, the phases of the moon. She’s called by the Universe, “Now!” and She replies “Yes!” 

Unfolding 

unfurling into the unknown.

With love and trust,

Suman