The Holy Earth

This is a poem I found a while back that has been very important in my work with Nerthus. We had a bit of a rough patch recently, and I have made my apologies and am getting into my fall magic again, so I thought it would be nice to share the poem. It is by John Hall Wheelock.

***

In the immense cathedral of the holy earth,
Whose arches are the heavens and the great vault above
Groined with its myriad stars, what miracles of birth;
What sacraments of death, what rituals of love!

Her nave is the wide world and the whole length of it,
One flame on all her altars kindles her many fires;
Wherever the clear tapers of trembling life are lit
Resound for joy the old, indomitable choirs.

The holy church of earth with clamorous worshippers
Is crowded, and fierce hungers, faithful every one
To the one faith; that stern and simple faith of hers
Contents the heart that asks no pity, giving none.

Each on the other feeds, and all on each are fed,
And each for all is offered---a living offering, where
In agony and triumph the ancient feast is spread,
Life's sacramental supper, that all her sons may share.

They mingle with one another, blend---mingle---merge,
and flow
Body into wild body; in rapture endlessly
Weaving, with intricate motions of being, to and fro,
The pattern of all Being, one mighty harmony:

One Body, of all bodies woven and interwrought---
One Self, in many selves, through their communion
In love and death, made perfect, wherein each self is
nought
Save as it serve the many, mysteriously made One.

This is beautiful.!