Day 14 - Lavender

Pen Play: A poem-a-day writer's retreat in June

Hello loves :) Happy Day 14! Only 8 more days left (it’s just flown by). What’s on your mind as we move into our last week?

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Lavender is one of my favorite plants, colors, flavors, and scents. I think it’s special because of the way it is so humble and delicate… yet is undeniable and distinct when it’s present. It is clear if it’s in the room ;) 

In Light Language, Lavender governs the actualization of authenticity - connecting with our true humanity and divinity as a whole, and respecting the ongoing opportunity of the process. For this post, I’ll highlight one aspect: being vividly real, vividly human, with the earth and the heavens.

Photo by Serghei Savchiuc

The day of writing this poem, I had the privilege of attending the Monacan Indian Pow Wow, the closest Native tribe in my region of Virginia. (Here is an interesting history of the Monacan people if you’d like to learn more about them.) 

This Light Language energy of Lavender was so present there. We were hundreds in this place, Native and non-Native, but as a community coming to celebrate culture, the event felt grounded and clear, fully exposed to the heart of the earth and the hearts of each other. It was like Native Pride, a great exposition curated to highlight how powerful it was to be intensely, authentically Indigenous American.

Many times, the emcee announced and celebrated a lost item that was returned by an honest soul, simply because it was precious. A professor of one of the big nearby universities manned a booth showcasing the Indigenous Friendship Garden she ran that included public foraging workshops and monthly indigenous dinners. 

And then the dancing. And the traditional clothing. And the singing. Breathtaking, just to experience, but also: everything had a story. Every aspect to take in had a meaning. Every detail was completely integrated into land and nature to an extraordinarily respectful degree. 

It was clear that these people belonged to this land, and that this land belonged to these people, not through arbitrarily declared ownership and legal documents, but through authentic attentiveness, presence, cooperation, and kindness. It’s not that they “deserved” it more than any other people, but instead that they had actually already put the work in to reach this point.

I’ve always admired this quality of the Indigenous American traditions, but it’s something nonetheless spectacular to experience in person. For me, this is Lavender, and I wanted to pay homage to this expression in my poem today. 

Thank you, for your mighty resilience and tireless devotion to authentic living on this planet; this loving legacy remains a blessing for us all. 

Much love, beauties <3 

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Lavender

“The universe is full of magical things patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper.” - Eden Phillpotts

A small sprig of 
Lavender 
Sprouts patiently at the edge
Of the clearing,
Waiting for our fog to clear.
Must what we choose to do now
Be something we’re forced to do?
In forcing the choosing,
Must we still do it? 
Can it still be enjoyed? 

A small sprig of 
Lavender 
Sprouts patiently at the edge
Of the clearing,
Waiting for us to 
Welcome again our clarity,
Slip off the boots and
Slip on the moccasins,
Breathing again the earth 
To catch its scent and
Exonerate our lungs,
Feeling the beat of our heart
Grow louder and stronger
Until our feet rise and fall 
In honored time.
A drum strikes,
A shout pierces the air,
The grass is stamped down 
In our wake.
We start to see ourselves
Delicately alive
In this rich land again,
And a whisper of lavender 
Lingers, prophetic. 

A small sprig of
Lavender
Sprouts patiently at the edge
Of the clearing,
Waiting,
Delicately alive,  
So that we may find her
And enjoy her once more.

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