Wednesday, April 22, 2015


Photo by S. Auberle


 Mother Earth, we pray today
to join with our brothers and sisters
in the company of whom we share this web of life.
We will not take from you lightly, nor do harm.

We will respect those creatures with whom we live.
Wolf, Hawk, Turtle and Bear, we honor you
and all our four-legged brothers and sisters.
Bless us, please, you Flying People,
Crawling People, the Swimmers,
Plant and Tree People.

Father Sun, we beseech you
to shine down your light upon us.

Sister Rain and Brother Wind, walk softly here,
for we are small beneath your power.

Sister Moon, shine gently
 as you guide us into dreamtime,
and when you journey across the world,
send your stars to light our way home.

Mother Earth, accept our prayer,
bless us with your energy and healing.
Help us remember that we are connected
to all who share your sacred web of life—past,
present, and future—that in divinity
we may exist as one…

                                                            Sharon Auberle

Thursday, April 16, 2015


Digital collage by S. Auberle       ~"Masquerade"
multi-media, hand colored pastel & watercolor


She believed long ago
that every one except her knew
something she didn’t…
Important people knew,
successful people knew,
nuns and priests,
in their stern pulpits knew…
how to go through this world
purely, with wisdom the girl felt
she would never possess.
It seemed to her that she was broken
or missing something and, somehow,
needed to be fixed.

The masks were available
as she grew, and like other women
in that time and place,
she chose several…good girl,
good wife, good mother.
They never quite fit.
She couldn’t see well in them,
but it didn’t matter--this way
no one would know her true self.
With her vision askew,
the woman didn’t realize
that other people wore masks—
crooked ones, shabby ones, 
masks that had fallen,
been trampled on the ground.

But this is no new story
and I wish I could tell you a happy ending…
I can’t.  Except that
even the finest masks wear out.
Feathers and jewels drop, one by one.
The edges tatter and tear, till
one day, the masquerade ends.
The woman sees her face,
naked, scarred, criss-crossed
with living.  She touches herself,
tenderly, to be sure….and finds herself
whole and beautiful.  
She was never  broken.