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The Natural Voice

The Natural Voice Marty Dixon

Fields of children running wild

In the sun.

Like a forest is your child, growing wild

In the sun.

Doomed in his innocence

In the sun …

Tell them it's not too late.

Cultivate, one by one.

Tell them to harvest and rejoice

In the sun!1

The whole of our lives down here on Earth is spent learning balance, and as I write this column, our Earth is profoundly balanced between the summer and winter seasons in its elliptical orbit around the Sun. Today it has been especially clear that the autumnal equinox has arrived with its new moon in Libra and Pluto stationing direct for the first time in six months. It's as if nature itself is letting go with a sigh of relief since the building and storing of energy from early spring.

Today, especially, I felt the balance point where our Earth suspends her orbit and rests between extremes. I felt the call to just be, go within, and listen. There was a whispering stillness in the air, a silence accented only by migrating birds and the hollow drone of a small plane. And for a few moments, an entire rainbow appeared amid half clouds and blue sky, amid clearing and shower. It was as if she had spoken — the Goddess — and said, "I will appear to you for only a few golden moments today, half in shadow and half in illumination, just long enough for you to hear my name and feel me in your bones." There she stood breathless, poised, and as apparent as every form that has ever lived or stirred. She gave voice and hastened to the west in a spectacle of light.