May 12, 2016 – Uruz & Berkana
The aurochs charges through the grove.
It is eminence in its power, brutish and untamed. It bellows in the wood.
The birch tree is a little seed, small still, quiet. It listens to the rain and the beast. In quietness it extends its roots deep into the earth and raises into the sky and over shadows the beast. It sways ever so slightly as its leaves rustle a soft chime in the breeze.
No one hears the roar of the auroch anymore.
In the quietness of the day of hot sun we still sit under the birch. The birch does not ask a thank you. It just stands in quiet majesty reaching into the earth and sky at the same time. It sways ever so slightly saying, “Anyway, you are welcome.”
Blessed be the birch that listens in quietness.