FootprintsintheWind.com

These are our children, yours and mine, and I am pregnant, you are pregnant, love is the impregnation. Love impregnates.

Love births life. It is gravity-field gathering us together to meet and meet again for here we take the action of love, here we come alive, here is born the third person in between.

Here is the narrow ridge, running from you to me and back, if we but climb it rather than see it as barrier, the narrow ridge upon which we can play as on a mountain meadow knowing and being known laughing and holding hands spinning till the tears come and we fall down in the soft flowers and get up to plant our grandchildren’s forests.

We are planting our grandchildren’s forests: fresh oxygen-creating forests, dark undergrowth forests, hidden paths and sunlight shining in, forests full of life and death, dark and light, mystery and generation, shelter and storm, things that wriggle and crawl and leap, and our voices calling Take my hand.

:- Doug.