Labyrinth – Meditation on a Field Before Baling

An Ecotheological Poem 
by Leah D. Schade

(All photos by Leah D. Schade)

Yestermorning

I passed the freshly mown hay field

content

to look from afar with dry gravel safely under my feet.

Today

the way between the windrows

beckoned.

I stepped into the dew-bathed grass,

my feet baptized by morning droplets.

The crows called from the tree,

 and when I looked back,

what I had not seen

was revealed.

The farmer could not have known

that he had created

a labyrinth –

sacred space in which I could walk

into my interiority

within the great expanse of this field

under dawn’s moon.

Long strands of grass brushed my feet

like the fragrant hair of the woman anointing the Teacher.

Who am I to receive such extravagance?

my Pharisee demands.

But I follow the Teacher’s lead and

lean down to thread my fingers through her hair

bringing her sweet scent to my nose

and breathing deeply.

Later

on the gravel path,

the itchy tickle on my leg reveals a tress of green

still clinging.

Did Jesus discover entwined to the hairs of his leg

one wisp still

whispering 

the decadent aroma of sin

forgiven?

Questions to consider:  
When has Creation graced you with a gift beyond measure?
What is the sacramental nature of the other-than-human world?
How does the Divine work through nature to communicate something important to you?