Mj Pettengill

It is with love, joy, and concern that I hear messages woven within an earthly tapestry of sacred harmony.

I am greeted by the bird chorus in the Singing Tree each morning.

So instead of going on about how I authentically care for the planet and its inhabitants, I am celebrating a week or so of silence.

For his music to be played with so much love and respect, three hundred and thirty-eight years later, I think he deserves a cake.

I stand amidst the falling snow, deep within myself.

The oak and weed together rise along the common ground.

Reclaim your wildness, and own your intended state.

The original blog was replaced with a simple poem. Here's why...

Once I was on my way to proper identification, comprehension, and acknowledgment, the wall of pain slowly and steadily vanished.

It is time to remember our strengths and trust ourselves again to navigate the future safely.

Often, we sense the presence of the ancient ones through the subtle movement of trees, birds, animals, and plants.

If I witness the death of a thousand trees, did it really happen? Does it matter?

Trust the angels, Dad. They are here to help you.

The time has come to shelter deep within the earthen womb of Our Mother.

Going way back, in dreams of wooded hills and endless children’s laughter, they wait, stories begging to be remembered.

We must wait until the time is right, not too soon or too late, to break out of the chrysalis—

If you were blindfolded and tasted Sumac Lemonade, you would think it was an authentic citrus lemonade.

“Anyone who tells a lie has not a pure heart and cannot make a good soup.” — Beethoven

The souls of the departed visit us on the wings of a monarch.

Together we sang, our melodies mingling, dancing across the treetops, over the vernal pool, and drifting into the woods.