As we learn again to speak as beings that draw our being from the earth, it’s good to go out in the afternoon light and see what catches us. A feral squiggly willow, perhaps, among the cattails: a withe and a rush.
Well, the withe writhes as water does when it wells, when the lips open to it, and the rush…
… is the flow of water when it speaks. Similarly, it speaks with a brush when you brush through it and make it speak with your breast.
These energies flow from two separate sources, yet are in the same wetland. The rush is a flow, while the withe wells, or, as they say, springs forth. It is a harder energy.
And then there’s the reed, which is the run of water that squeals out reed as you push through it, all the run of water drawn out into a stiff, sustained channel. This is the purest of these energies, even though it does mix well with both of the others.
Perhaps the most variable is the withe, and this variability in unity, is that not beauty?
Is that variation in pattern, that sustaining energy the greatest draw? I believe it is. And then, when it draws you in, it slips aside to reveal its weaker sisters, such as the rushes on the right below…
… and by this contrast reveal her equal strength. These are the powers that pass and flow and bring you to flow, multiplicity and binding. The wheel is not a greater addition to human culture.