08/15/2026
All Creation is sacred. I join you in prayer for the Earth as I cling to the assurance that comes in the whisper of the ancient shell that reminds us that the Earth dwells within.
Thank you Jay Stone for this beautiful lesson and art work.
Prayers up as we we receive the blessings that our Creator provides. May each be blessed.
Good night
Wende Badder.
Grandmother Turtle, Keeper of the Living Earth
She carries the forest in silence,
and the old prayers in her shell.
Before the first story was spoken,
before the first fire sent sparks to the stars,
Grandmother Turtle rose from the deep water
with the memory of earth upon her back.
Her shell was not only a shelter—
it was a sacred world.
Pine trees stood like ancient listeners.
A cold river sang through stone.
The eagle circled above the mountain wind.
Bear and fish moved through the same living prayer.
The elders say
that all things belong to one circle:
the wing, the root, the stream, the claw,
the breath of human beings,
and the quiet spirit hidden in the dark soil.
Grandmother Turtle remembers this.
She never forgot.
She walks slowly,
but her slowness is wisdom.
She does not rush the sunrise.
She does not question the season.
She knows that the Creator
speaks softly through water,
through moss,
through the hush between heartbeats.
On her back, the forest is alive with teachings.
The river teaches movement.
The mountain teaches endurance.
The eagle teaches vision.
The bear teaches courage.
And the turtle—
the old, patient turtle—
teaches how to carry the world
without letting the world harden your spirit.
There is mystery in her eyes,
as if she has seen
the first moon reflected in the first lake.
There is medicine in her silence,
as if she knows the names
of the ancestors walking just beyond the mist.
When night comes
and the stars lean closer to the earth,
Grandmother Turtle becomes more than a creature.
She becomes a bridge—
between water and sky,
between memory and tomorrow,
between the visible path
and the one only the spirit can follow.
If you are weary,
sit beside the inward river of your soul
and remember her.
Remember that life is not a race of noise,
but a sacred journey of listening.
Remember that the land is not separate from you.
It lives in your breath,
your blood,
your dreaming.
And when you feel lost
beneath the weight of the world,
hear the whisper rising from her ancient shell:
“Walk gently.
Honor every living thing.
Carry peace where you can.
The earth is not beneath you—
it is within you.”
~🎨 Artist and author: Jay Stone~
