From whom did you learn
From you.
Even though we haven’t met until this point in this lifetime.
From the wind.
From a cell that helps form my fingernail bed.
From the ether and the beings that reside there.
From the underworld and the guides that reside there
From the grasses, the eyes, the hair and the owl.
I learned from myself. From my brothers. From my mothers. And from my Sisters
I learned from the mycelium and the oak
From the Stars and the Sun and the spaces between.
I lay on the bottom of the lake and soften my gaze as I look to the chaos on the surface of the clear blue water. Watching the waves roll above me, untouched by their madness, I am settled in the sediment, at home with the fish
I sit cradled and held by the earth’s warm womb. The krummholtz growing above me leaving a cervix of light, just enough to see my ancestors in the stars.
The mountains hold steady on either side of me. Protecting me. Watching me. Whispering their stoic prose of wisdom many centuries old.
I surrender, they stand taller.