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Writer's pictureIrena Nayfeld

World Building, Temple Dreaming

I have been dreaming lately. Dreaming of the world I want to see, the world we deserve, the world that is possible; one where all beings are honored in their dignity, live in community and right relationship to land and other species, honor the sacred in ourselves, eachother, and this beautiful world we get to be part of, lead with love.


It is from this place of longing that this poem emerged. It is from knowing that we need solutions now that come not only from the mind but from the soul.


I know now, poetry is world building. It is creation. It is prayer. I pray for safe places, sacred places, places where we come together and remember what it means to be whole, rooted, and free.


Towards this future to come, I offer this:


Where do we go?

Us  

Forest witches,

Fire breathers,

Drum beaters,

swim in the sweet and stony 

depths Mermaids,

barefoot Earth singers.

Where do we go 

when nothing matters and everything 

is already lost?

When the skies gather and weep,

and Mother Willow comforts us

coming undone 

in her embrace - 

hands clinging to roots, 

digging,

desperate for wisdom.


Where do those of us who worship not idols but the Moon 

that governs tides, and life;

Where do we go?

Where can we breathe easy?

The way that Muslims gather in Mosques

Christians in churches,

Jews in synagogues;

the way ashrams and monasteries

shelter those that dedicate their lives 

to the holy that feeds them - 


Where are our temples?


Where do we go

to pray,

to love, 

to hold hands

and know we are not alone?

Where do we rest,

and who takes care of us 

so that the sacred may work through us?

Fill the parched, cracked 

dry cup of soul.

Relieve the drought of spirit 

that has so stricken this land.

Let people feel again.

Feel whole again.

Live again.

Live alive again.


Where do we go? 

Somebody tell me.

Lover or stranger, point the way.

I have no compass,

nor can I ask my mother.

Make me a map.

Better yet, walk with me.

Better still -

Pick up this stone. 

This drum. This hammer.

Build with me.

Wake up, 

and dream this world with me!

Sister, Moon dancer,

Earth lover, Fire breather; 

The time is now.

Be brave with me.

Give me your hand. 


I know I am not the only one dreaming this. As injustice, genocide, and straight up insanity unfold around us, more and more of us are waking up. Remembering. Moving towards each other and towards healing and liberation. The dark brings the light. Always has.


I do not know where this leads, and frankly, it's none of my business. I know what my work is here, now. I know that I am not alone. I know that I am guided, and held. I know that if we hold the world we want as inevitable, as the only possible outcome, it will become.


We will have our Temples. The world we are dreaming is also dreaming us.


The time is now. I love you. Take my hand.




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