Local Nature Devas

The energy of the plants in the park near my home has a visionary quality. The nature devas appear. They radiate a soft, peculiar luxury, with distinct characteristics sculpted from light. Waves of light, wind blown fields of light. They seem to have physical features, but before you can focus or remark on them, they dissolve and shift into other forms. The fluidity is exquisite and overwhelmingly playful. Collectively, the chorus of plants is rapturous, but there are unmistakable traces and attributes in every one.

There is a bush whose leaves are so thick and full, a light, almost orangey green, which stands at waist height and embraces your legs and hips and belly with a deep, ethereal longing. Plant beings really want to touch you and hold you tenderly. They want to feel us and heal us with a longing so intense it might raise an innocent smile from any gardener.

Further along, there are young sapling springing up and fervently budding. You can feel the thrill of new life they experience; blissful infants tuning to the wind. Their joy does feel musical, a new song rising in the dark, creative space of the divine mother.

Even the grass flows and spins with liquid light. I moved through it today in the soft Spring rain, towards the twelve poplar trees who shoot up like erect phalluses packed with light. They are denser and stronger, hold themselves like sentinels, knights of the valley protecting the lilt of the stream at their backs.

And then there are the willows on either side of the bridge over the water. They are graciously feminine, often appearing as White Tara. She is the deva. They merge with her. They are white with black hair, silky and elemental. Water and fire. Wind and green leaf. They are sisters and mothers, and nurture and bless everyone who passes beneath their sad, drooping branches. Yet not sad, nor weeping, nor anything other than strong and adaptable to the current you bring.

At this level, the physicality of the trees and plants feels like a mirage, a tremor in empty space. Their form seems illusionary, but also vibrant and electric. Shimmering. This is the quality of the devas, the shimmer and throb at the gateway to the divine. Whether you call them spirits or elementals, their energy translates to an extrasensory delight, and it's simply up to us to adjust ourselves to that, as they seem to adjust themselves to us so naturally.