A Re-imagining of “The World is Too Much With Us”
by William Wordsworth
When the world is too much with us,
And the noise gets too loud
And the numbers don’t add up
And the words don’t make sense,
Hide me in the womb of Mother Nature,
Tucked away in a tall pine tree —
Or a redwood or a dark green spruce —
Somewhere majestic to remind me of my birthright.
Cradle me and sing me a song,
While my cheeks are caressed by the wind.
Rock me awhile,
In the hills where rivers and mountains
Run deep, so deep I can sleep
Like an Evening Primrose seed,
Buried in the dark earth, so sweet.
Let me hear the roaring rumble
The sacred tumble of a waterfall, underneath.
Kiss me with fair moonbeams
In a world where the great forest is a castle
And every little girl dreams.
Dead bones fall into peace
And woodland creatures whisper love squeaks.
After a good, long rest
I stretch myself out,
Shake loose the old snakeskin
And take a wise breath —
A hint of rosemary and white sage smoldering,
Holy resins in the air,
I honor all that is living —
In my hand I carry a touchstone
And a jewel of truth in my heart,
I walk steady on
Waving a magical, tree-branch wand,
Filled with ancient echoes and hot bolts of lightning,
Inscribed, “Ichi achi ah hey, beloved daughter of the sun.”
January 27, 2019