Rewilding Through Writing

Prompts and poems for Earth Day

If a tree, plant, non-human animal or any other aspect of nature spoke to you, what would they say? What have they seen? What have they experienced? How do they feel? Would their perspective change the way you interact with the world outside your door? 

This is one of the three prompts I shared during Thursdays Rewilding Through Writing course. Like each week, we had a topic to explore through writing, reading, practice and discussion. This week’s topic was, and is, Earth. After sharing the prompt, we closed our eyes and meditated until the image of another being appeared. Then we wrote for less than ten minutes from their perspective. Afterward students read aloud and it was deeply moving. I’ve asked them to share here. This is what they wrote:

Photo by Kirill Tonkikh on Unsplash

Kate Rose Awen wrote from the perspective of Spruce:

I am the spruce of the sea cliff

I am what grandmother spider would call ancient

and the wolf would call old

I stand rooted in the sea cliff

feeling the waves beating against the stones

day after day, year after year

relishing in the vibrations

My flesh is marred with storm forged wounds

and my sweet, healing blood flows forth

covering my rawest places

The medicine flows from the wound, you know

Let me tell you, now, of the days

when there were no words spoken here

The sea spoke loudly, then

The chickadees tickled my needles

and the nuthatches sang to my soul

of home and shelter

Simple are my ways,

soft is my scent

winter is my soul

Photo by Alexandre Boucey on Unsplash

Roe Sarita wrote from the perspective of a Cloud:

I'm a clouded cloud. 

Your pollution is a stencil, I fall into your trending shapes. I can no longer guard you, I am your follower, a printer for your thoughts. 

We'll fast now and feast on breath, give birth to pure thoughts within our cells and make sacred gatherings for the lost

the broken, the impoverished, and the greedy. 

We'll run free like untamed horses to save each other, make footprints on the ground so pure
All will unite, and I'll mirror you a New Earth when you breathe as one.  

Photo by Alexander Andrews on Unsplash

Maired Dambruch wrote from the perspective of a star:

The Star

I am high up for the creatures that you know.

Just as you chase squirrels from your trees, I must clean the flunutes from my Orban Blooms.

I see what you do down there, although small. 

You move in masses, travel by car, keep ships afloat and are busy burning things. 

You believe you are quite bright, but you can see me in a distant land off kilter from Orion’s Belt. 

I used to be a part of Mensa but my correspondence no longer is attributed to a line or shape. 

I am the only star not in a constellation.

Photo by Herbert Goetsch on Unsplash

Emily Niswanger wrote a touching note from Dandelion:

The Dandelion

I wish I could understand why so many people don’t like me.

I thought most people loved flowers, especially free ones, 

But I’ve learned that most would prefer a sea of green instead.

I tried to make my presence more enticing by granting wishes to those that kept me around,

But I have found that most are not playful enough to blow away all of my petals with one large breath.

I am grateful for people like you who realize my potential to heal and nourish.

And I am grateful to be your favorite flower.

Photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash

And Erin Woolridge wrote from the perspective of a seed:

The Seed 

I am a seed
I am sitting in the dark, damp dirt. I am waiting for my shell to crack, and the courage to set my root outside. For now, the dark is nourishing. 

I am a root. 

I am tapping deep into the heart of the Earth. 

I am in constant exchange of feeding and flow.

I am the stalk pushing through the dark, damp dirt. I know the warmth and the dark was comfortable
But without the light of the sun, the dirt begins to rot

And everything caves in on itself. 

I am the dark, damp dirt; I am the sunlight.

Writing is magic. In less than ten minutes students entered another realm. In other writing exercises, we traveled to formative experiences with nature and meditated on our relationship with the natural world. This week, suggested ‘homework’ is to use writing to deepen intimacy with land where we are.

Here are two more prompts for you:

🌱 Describe a significant experience with nature. Bring yourself back to the sights, sounds, smells and sensory details of the experience: How old were you? Why was the experience so impactful? Did it have a positive or negative effect on your relationship with the natural world? Did the experience shape or change you somehow?

🌱 Write a letter to Mother Earth. 

We are nature, of course. Intimacy with inner and outer landscapes offer us a profound sense of belonging, something that no one — nor any life event, lost job, or missed mark — can ever take away. When we realize the incredible generosity of Mother Earth and our bodies, and truly see the awe-inspiring creatures we are related to, I believe we cannot help but fall in love.

Share your writing on behalf of nature the comments if you’re moved to. Happy Earth Day 🌎