Sunday, July 05, 2009

An Epiphany of Frigga

It's about 6 in the morning. I'm standing in front of a tree on my walk in someone's front yard. It's filled with blossoms, and the first thing you hear when approaching the tree is the buzzing of bees. There are hundreds, maybe thousands, of bees in this tree, buzzing about. It is as if the entire tree is a hive. I approach very gingerly and carefully this tree. It is an awe, it is a wonder, it is as if you can hear the tree itself singing through its bee organs. There is a reality where tree and blossom and bee are not separate, but connected.

You can hear the song of the Earth coming up through the tree and expressing itself in the buzzing of these very busy and delightfully dancing bees. It is a wonder one approaches with caution ; with that many bees, one doesn't want to disturb them. There is a certain mild kind of danger that requires a form of respect. It is thus that I would consider this to be a religious epiphany, right here in the middle of suburbia. A religious epiphany, because there is an awe that has a certain danger connected with it that brings a requisite level of respect, and a feeling of reverence that speaks beyond itself to a real felt connection with the Earth and with life, and that is religious!

It is as if I am at an altar of Frigga set up by the Earth itself, merely allowed by the suburban residence. I can stand in front of this and hear that droning, that buzzing, and can feel the living connection to the Earth.

There are certain creatures that sing that song even better than our own song-smiths : bees, cicadas, crickets, even locusts. These beings enable you to hear the landscape, and are therefore very sacred. Poets ought listen to their song and see if their rhythms might grant that awe that is magic itself to our hymns, for here the Earth speaks, through its crawling creatures.


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