Trickster, Autumn Light
Sunlight cuts through the mist. Holy or haunted—I am both, and neither. I am the question in the forest’s soul: rivers turned, hunters misled, children laughing as shadows leap like deer. Creation and destruction are both gifts.
For now, I take in October’s last autumn light and let myself be seen. For one instant, I am only a stag—majestic, ordinary, eternal. Then the trickster smiles within, ready for the next trick.
Footnote: Many Native American traditions held clowns and tricksters as essential to any contact with the sacred. People could not pray until they had laughed, because laughter opens and frees from rigid preconception. Humans needed tricksters in the most sacred ceremonies, for fear they would forget that the sacred comes through upset, reversal, and surprise. In most Native traditions, the trickster is essential to creation and birth.
Trick or Treat?
Discover more from MeanderingPassage
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.