Invocation

Invocation

Shall I speak to you of nature? I shall, but first, I must invoke the Muse.

Some mornings, the smell of a freshly crushed sassafras leaf is enough. 

Some mornings, I strike the singing bowl. The ethereal tone focuses my attention.

Some mornings, I stretch in the motions of the Eight Brocade Qigong. 

Some mornings, I dance, but I am not Bal Shem Tov, the dancing Rabbi. 

Some mornings, I recite the beauty way song, but I am not Diné. 

Some mornings, I read a work by St. Francis of Assisi, "The Canticle of Brother Sun."

Some mornings, I read a short poem of my own composition.

On occasion, I have lit a sage wand and offered smoke to the four directions.

The smell of sage smoke once prompted a neighbor to ask what I was smoking,

I sometimes wave smoke to the four directions, and let the neighbors wonder.  

This may persuade you that I am running in circles with no specific direction.

I remind you that these are merely ways of beginning the day,

which is another way of saying "invoking the Muse."  

A Review

I just reread Byrd Baylor’s lovely children’s book The Way to Start a Day. She speaks of sunrise rituals all over the world, from ancient China to Peru, and they are ways of celebrating the rising sun.