Great Well between the earth and sky,
give us a new myth –
one we can paint and sing about,
dance and dream about;
one to tell to children,
so that they may dream of the past
in the future.
The old ones have gone stale.
We are starved
chewing on litanies
long since emptied of their nourishment
We have named the elements
and put them to use –
abandoning wonder,
forgetting the source.
Air, Water, Earth, Fire –
How will we be remembered?
What lies under the crusty rocks
still to be turned?
What myth will be left standing?
How many have been lost forever?
Give us only the raw materials
to make life out of death;
the tools to find joy where there is fear.
The rest we may leave behind.
The ground is fresh –
up from the seas it came, with the tide,
with new life,
and new mysteries.
Life! What else is there for us?
If we could see behind the screen of the gods,
perhaps we’d know more. But for now –
we breathe, we love, we grieve.
Let us cherish life like a short growing season,
Notice the everyday changes.
Look for the buds.
Harvest when the moon is right.
Let us gather our stories
and spread them like the seeds of a new season.
Dance, dream, pray for water.
1996
Purple Hazel Green 
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