There is a direct line of communication between every human and every plant and all we have to do is pick up the phone. This phone line reveals some, but not all, qualities of plants: clairvoyance (seeing clearly), clairaudience (hearing clearly), clairempathy (feeling clearly), telepathy, hypnosis, dictation of literature. But in order to have access to this phone line, we have to admit to all the possibility of all these psychic qualities in ourselves. I’ve been on this phone line for many years now. I’ve had very detailed hour-long conversations with plants without ever needing to open my mouth. Plants talk to me; I talk to them. This is one of the most natural things humans can do.
I am conversations with bees and bugs and spiders and thorns and rocks and baby trees.
They are all my peers. Flowers have told me how much they loved me and how cute I was. Flies have told me to hold them close to my heart. It’s true. Birds invite me to their concerts, and I sing too. All things seen and unseen in nature are so pregnant with their own profundity that a hierarchy of beings in the natural world is impossible. So, no — a human life is not more precious and sentient than other life on this living planet. I hold the consciousness of everyone in nature on the tip of my tongue. The song of crickets is my voice.
Plants and their many songs are quite loud and clear from wherever you choose to listen. Their energies can be stunning and jarring, render you speechless, calming, and the sight can even be blinding. I was weeding bindweed once, and one bindweed shouted “NO, NOT ME” authoritatively — I had to obey. Plants routinely stop me in my tracks, lost for breath almost, instantly knowing i’m in the presence of royalty — meaning, the Ground of All Being. Simple walks down the street become concert halls. To say plants are alive is the understatement of the century. It cannot be put into words though — you must be able to stand inside of plantsong and birdsong and know the continuous trance state of their prescience and presence. One must become stuck in the perpetual traffic of plantsong. When the bird sings in the tree, their song must travel through the tree and through you also. If it didn’t, you wouldn’t hear their song and neither would the tree. One must look into the eye of Nature and see everyone there as being equal to them in every single way.
Plants sing. Leaves talk. Bark reasons. Everyone in nature reasons, not only that particular instance of nature — the two-legged animal called human. Plantsong is what happens when you look at a plant through the Eyes of Soul — without the naming the plant, without thinking of it as “I am human looking at plant” or even as “a plant”, without thought, by being completely still, by allowing the nature of the soul the Form called “Plant” finds itself in. The thorns grab you in their loving embrace, and you are called to reckon with their majesty. Yes, thorns are the bodies of very intelligent souls. If they weren’t, they wouldn’t look so beautiful. The way a leaf is moved emotionally by the wind is decided by that leaf. Every thought of every human has been recorded in the history of pollen — especially the masculine part of us, since pollen and the anther is the floral component of the Divine Masculine. Insects are also a very happy part of plantsong, otherwise they wouldn’t spend so much time crawling on plants, merging with them, becoming them. Whenever they point their antennae down or around to feel where they are going, they are plantsong. Ariel, the guardian angel of nature, is a part of the song too, she wants us all to come home to her bosom — she told me so, and so much more. The way resin purrs when the pine brings it out, the maple breathing sap, frankincense and myrrh from their trees – none of these things could happen without plantsong: the way of all plants, the sound of grace, ease, lightness.
Seeing plants face-to-face means you have to look at them without thought, and once you see them, loving them becomes quite effortless.