Listening to the Heavens

Paul Hampton Crockett

In those days there lived in peace and abundance a tribe whose very name is now long forgotten. They were a people of the far North, whose legend and tribal knowledge (ancient even then) reminded that they were both born of and belonged to both Earth and Sky. In this respect they viewed themselves not so much essentially different from the other tribes and their peoples, as perhaps clearer in their memory.

And how could they forget their celestial heritage, and source, when at times majestic lights in every color of the rainbow shimmered directly above, in unearthly and elegant motion? Their ancient forefathers had chosen for their own a homeland quite obviously situated at the very threshold of the Heavens.

Nor, for that matter, could these people see any horizon, anywhere, as remotely ordinary or mundane. Was not each a point of meeting of Earth and Sky, a trysting place in which each might embrace and caress the other, and a grounding point for both?

They observed the passion with which the ever-changing hues of the sky rushed always to embrace and hold the solid forests, waters, and meadows the People knew as their Earth Home, and how sweetly both lingered in their timeless dance. They observed the lights reluctance to return home until darkness had at last again gathered thick within the forest branches, and shadow unbroken once more claimed the ground. Only when curtain of graceful Night had finally fallen would the Heavens return home to itself.

Yet even in the deepest darkness of the interval to follow, the People saw in the bejeweled stars scattered in such profligate glory against black sky, and the eternal, elegant return of Mother Moon, in all of her serene and silvered phases, clear messages of comfort left for the heartbroken lovers, and a sure Promise that that they would once again soon be together. In the eyes of these people most ancient, the tops of the ancient trees soaring high above and the stars of night were all part of one embracing fabric. And perhaps because they were also of the Heavens, the stars overhead were understood as closer, if anything, than the tree tops.

All they needed do to hold one (a practice apparently viewed as important, from time to time, for reasons no longer remembered) was kiss gently their fingers, close their eyes, and reach slightly upwards, without struggle or effort, to pluck one tenderly from its appointed place in the sky. In deepest joy and gratitude, they would then hold its beating heart in the cupped palm of grateful hand. Stars could be held only for so long as ones eyes remained closed, and even then just for a while, allowing for a few good, deep breaths on either end of a prayer 3

most sacred. It is difficult to say, exactly, because time simply did not matter to them as it does to us. They lived out their days without need for ticking clock, numbers, or hands relentlessly in motion, and would almost certainly have found such a notion surpassingly strange. The shadows falling all around them, and the ever-changing quality of light, told them easily all they needed know.

So holding a star was easy, whereas reaching the tops of some of the trees was certainly not. Since we have no record today of the forest known and loved by them as home, even in faded photographs, we will have to imagine how very magnificent, soaring, and thick of limb were the oldest and largest of the ancients, as they were known. Some had never been scaled, even in the vast tribal memory of the people. And many others were not easy! To reach their heights one had to climb and climb, sometimes at terrifying risk. And even when a courageous climber had triumphed, prevailing at last sweaty, breathless and blood-smeared from the inevitable scratches, there remained always the queasy matter of safely returning to the Earth, far below! One walked among them known by all as Heart-Mother. (Quite probably that had not been her first name, although we cannot know with certainty. It is known, however, that the People thought of names as both greatly important and necessarily flexible. They saw little point in having a person fit a name, instead of the other way around.

It should also be noted, by the way, that she had come to be known by nearly all of the little ones, with greatest affection, as Grandmother. A goodly number of the younger women and men, who had apparently also once been little, also still used the name.) They children loved her especially, because she first loved them. Their elders, meanwhile, held Heart-Mother in a place of highest respect and esteem, for they knew that the many seasons of her life had been marked by remarkable and daunting challenge. They could not forget that her poor heart had been broken time and again by the unkind action and word of those who certainly should have known better. And yet they marveled at the whole woman she had become! Each saw in her, in a multitude of forms, a quiet and private promise of personal victory. How could one whose own most sacred dreams had for so long been treated so very shabbily, often even cruelly, become so very fine, masterful, and persistent a steward of that most fragile and closely held by others? No one could know. But they wondered! She was ingenious, this woman, and her heart was good. She could barely abide to witness suffering, wherever it might be found. She lost no opportunity to feed one hungry, or stand vigilant guard throughout the endless night of anothers burning fever. And, perhaps most of all, she simply listened. And: it was well known that whatever might be shared with this one, would go no further. That alone made her something of a rarity within the tribe! Yet for all of her talents, there was one truly singular gift that she alone had to offer. It had always been so, and was truly a remarkable thing, especially bearing in mind that hers were a People born of both Earth and Sky: only she could hear the Music of the Heavens! From time to time she would simply stop where she stood to savor the shimmering celestial symphony of the Great Northern Lights, standing enraptured as the young ones gathered around her.

Though the beloved elder could not have known it, many a hurting soul who lacked words to speak of their pain, or means to otherwise reach out, simply knew to gather close around her during these moments of silent rapture. They looked up into her face, eyes closed and glowing as from within, and then up to the Great Lights above, and then back to her beautiful face. And for reasons that simply cannot be explained, sometimes it seemed as if the clouds would part inside, and that Peace, Glory, and Harmony indeed remained a promise always, even and especially here and now. And it is here exactly that we shall leave these people to their peace, and ancient quietude. She called Heart-Mother stands even now upright and absolutely still, in silhouette against a sky of ever deepening blue. Though it cannot possibly be so, the shadowed figures of those who love and surround her seem as numberless as the shining stars just overhead! Many small brown hands clutch each of hers, warm and time-smoothed. They hold tight to her long buckskin dress and to one another, as if they might at any moment find themselves afloat, giddily ascending. Meanwhile the childrens parents, and theirs in turn, pause to look on and simply smile, remembering. They have always cherished Heart Mother. The truly remarkable thing about the timeless moment we are now privileged to witness is the silence. Only very rarely is an earnest ssshh! needed from one child to another, because they all know that she is listening to the Sky! Many gaze heavenward in utter awe, seeing as if for the first time. In the chill of deepening night they feel held and warmed by one another and by the sense of serenity that seems to radiate from the gentle soul standing above them. For a time, they imagine that the doors of Heaven are also flung wide for them!

And after many, many years have passed, when even the very youngest present on the night spoken of above have come to love grandchildren of their own, some will swear that as sure as they are, or have ever heard anything at all, that on just such nights and in the presence of Heart-Mother, they heard music, ever so faint. And though they cannot explain, they know in their hearts that nothing has ever been quite the same, since. Life is never lacking in challenges, and its blows can sometimes come hard, nearly unbearable in their impact. But they have learned that all of it is that much the sweeter, and easier, when one need not face its tests alone. Here, says the Grandfather, smiling as he reaches out his hand to youngest grandchild. Despite all efforts, the boy cannot hide that his eyes have been filled with tears, and he cannot explain. Lets go listen, he whispers conspiratorially into the boys ear before ever so gently kissing the top of his head. And together, hand in hand, they head out into the night.

In Celebration of our Beloved Janet Liedeker, Heart-Mother to Many.