Humans are intention seekers.
We see intention everywhere.
In light and shadow and shade.
In mountains, sky, and sea.
We cannot accept that the Red Rocks of Sedona
Or the red deserts of Australia
Were carved by old seas and erosion,
And not by the art of a godly sculptor.
We go further and feel it’s all alive.
We stand in mountain vortexes swirling with special powers.
We hear breezes as messages
And sense the presence of ancients who painted symbols on the rocks.
I have walked through the Australian red deserts.
The landscape quivers with animateness,
The stones and dunes seem ever so slightly to move
As the rock kangaroos sit quietly on their mothers of stone.
We humans need to see the meanings of things
And hear the messages they send.
We cannot settle for the thingness of things
Including animate things like ourselves.
Do we redeem nature by giving it meaning
And deciphering its intentions?
What if javelinas and rock kangaroos have nothing to say,
Except that they are alive on their own terms?
We humans are trapped in the spider webs of meaning.
We can never be alive on our own terms.
We have to mean something everywhere and always
And our intentions have to be scrutinized constantly.
We cannot just be a thing full of thingness.
We have to have a soul
And maintain human progress
While we devastate the earth on our way to heaven.
I often fantasize sitting still in the Red Mountains,
Honoring nature as my goddess–
Then the mountain lion pounces