The Rites of the Living – Love, Nature, Sex, and Affection

Yesterday I posted a piece on lovers called “Your Fey Mane.” Lately I’ve been reflecting on love and lovers a lot. Sex, our acts of sharing hands and lips, the bonding of our bodies, they captivate me. Us. I’ve come to a place where I think of all of our ways of sharing ourselves as the rites of living or the rituals of living. When we meet someone with whom we feel able to open our whole being and be filled by their spirit and them you, then you have felt love and engaged in the rites of living. But it needn’t be just another person…or should I say a human?

To share our most intimate selves in a place and with that place is to be bonded to it as well. My most amazing moments have been in the woods with moss in reach, a creek round my feet, or thunder roaring. Best of all is to share a kiss or lovemaking in the midst of deep nature, growing a bond between your partner and you and the wild things of this earth.

“The Rites of the Living”

The pair feel their way
touching moss beards on roots
beneath the thunder.
Their eyes guide their feet,
guide soles to firm standing stones
in the cool creek bed.
All the trees watch,
witnesses to gales, 
to weather, 
to the wearing of the bank,
to these bodies 
practicing the rites of the living.

Fingerlings nip their feet
in water clouded by silt and grit
under the bulk of a fallen hemlock,
a croon six hundred years old.
This pair stares deep
into the light-bending pools,
entwined in caress,
in needles, leaves and branches,
practicing the rites of the living.

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