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Milla Prince "Declaring Interdependence" | Poem

You, your body, your psyche and soul are nature. There are 1000s of little signposts that show you the way back to nature and the elements. They remind you that you are part of the great chain of being. Go on a search and let Milla Prince's words inspire you to do so.

Milla Princes, profile portrait, holding a purple flower standing in the forest
Milla Prince

Milla Prince is a Finnish and Palestinian writer and folk healer. She values diverse perspectives and explores the intersection of ancient practices with the modern world.

She is passionate about connecting people with their own ancestral lineage through plants and writing. Through plant medicine, folk herbalism, community resilience, land-based healing, animism, and folk magic, she seeks to help others overcome contemporary challenges.

On the For The Wild Podcast, Milla Prince reads one of her lyrics, which we put into words here. She reminds us of many wonderful aspect of life.

We are all interconnected with life. We are interconnected with the pines in the forest, the moon cycles, the frost in the morning, our ancestors, the ants, seasons, waves in the ocean, birds in the city, shooting stars, and the garlic in the pantry.

Everywhere you look, there is hidden life inside you and outside. Everywhere you look, you find traces of and to you. You too are the seed of something old and part of the greater whole. You are part of the web of life. It is time to remember this every day and to go in search of it.


[read on the podcast by Milla Prince, written up here by us]

"your body is part of the body of nature

your body's adaptable

but also forever tied to the primordial rhythms

of shifting tides


pollen taking wing from a cat kin

a green shoot knowing when to begin unfurling in the dark of the soil

your body is at least one part of wave returning to the shore

a crawdad diving down to the river bottom

a hollow bone

and the iridescent gleam on an earthworm skin

at least one part from 1000

it is high time to remember that

it is past time to remember that

no matter where you live, there are 1000s of small signposts directing your way back to the soil of your body, the water of your body, the fire of your body, the air of your body

if you follow the deltas of city streets and highways, they inevitably lead to deer trails and underground rivers

everywhere you look there is hidden life within and without

look for each day

the furred backs of pussy willows in city parks next to the obscene rightness of magnolias

the weeds in sidewalk cracks greening

birds finding the strange geography of canyons of buildings passable places to begin raising their young

your houseplants straining to get out of their pots, demanding water and nutrients in the most neglected corners of apartments

the garlic and potatoes in the cupboard growing new eyes and shoots eating themselves inside out, instead of letting you eat them in a final act of holy cannibalism

they are destroying their present form in order to be born anew

you too are a seed of something new

we humans think of creating new life only as the act of linear ancestry

my life springing into the life of my children

but in the great chain of being new life is born from our bodies every day

we scatter the seeds of plants

we breathe out tree food

we breathe in the atmosphere made by them for us, but not only us

we build shelters for the babies of small opportunistic mammals

we harbor birds under our eaves and spiders raise their young on strings in our rafters

you too are the seed of something old

once upon a time you were many other beings

you didn't just get here. you have been here a long time.

you have been lightning. you have been a trilobite. you have been a tooth.

no really! You can feel it in your bones. Is it an ache? Is it a tingle? Is it a memory of something half forgotten? Is it a dream?

you tell me!?

I will tell you this

when we die our bodies return to the biomass of the world

if we choose our rights wisely, we can become a tree, an ant, a potato bug.

and then in a trick of nonlinear ancestry again, a bird or rat, a deer, another human

brush your hair and release the lost parts of yourself into the wind

they will become nests for birds outside the office window on the fifth floor

feed the crumbs of your meals to the soil to the hungry micro organisms

feed a part of your food, your paycheck, your sweaters, your secret stash of the unnecessary, to sustain the life of someone else besides yourself

offer up what you can when you can and do not be stingy

offer up your time

some of us suddenly find ourselves possessing more of.

it’s a miracle.

do not have enough time or too much of it

how would we quantify such a thing?

time is not money

time is not precious

it is what we make of it

it is time yes and high time to do all these things

but also time is not linear

time is not real

it is not anything but seasons and tides, rites of spring, summer, fall and winter, and hundreds of others we have chosen to forget, ignore or carry on in secret

time is moons

relearn their names

look up and find each of their phases

they are the phases of your grandmother's mother's mother's mother's

each of your ancestors is bathed by their cool waters

has asked them significant questions about blood and strawberries

and first frost's has by their pale light tried to discern the tracks of a moose on the springs snows

the flicker of a fish returning from the summerlands

and watch the shadow of a couple of geese travel over that light

in the beginning there were only three lights at night

moonlight, starlight, fire light

they are still here. are you? are we?

if you catch your breath now and draw it in deep and hold it and let it all the way out again

you will maybe hear in your ears the rush of your own blood

it will sound like the ocean

it will sound like the wind in the pine trees of a primeval forest you have never visited

it is made of the minerals of this earth

out of the iron oxide of the first artists whose handprints are your handprints flickering on the cave wall

remember that when your breath catches in your throat

if you press your ear against the sea shell of your own self, you may hear the voice of every being you are made of

breathing with you

what did they whisper to you?

once you were an amphibian

once you were an egg inside your parents body, inside your grandparents body

once you were weightless, like a bird

do you still dream of flying?

don't stop

there are many things to do each day just to feed and house this body

you may not have a choice in them

you may not be able to gather or hunt or grow or harvest your warmth, your food and your home

you may not have freedom

you may not feel a belonging or a purpose

you may feel alone at times

you may feel disconnected

remember that you are not

you are part of not the internet of things but the mycelium of the world, the web of life

whether life is incredibly rare in the universe, or as common as a passing meteor trickling dust over your head as shooting stars

you are part of it

you are part of them

part of us

your body is the body of nature

a piece of basalt

a root of flicker

a salmon with a magnetic compass in your bones

the north star of your own being

a lodestone of a map yours to navigate, together with all of your relatives

declare interdependence

declare a state of emergence

declare your love"

Look closely, feel the web of life and remember it every day

What connections of life were you reminded of while reading the text and what will you remember in the future? What do your garlic in the pantry or the waves of the sea tell you? About you and about your ancestors?

Here you'll find more inspiring texts and visuals - from poets, musicians, word poets and other inspiring people.


Connect with your outer and inner nature at one of my events and retreats or dive deeper in a 1:1 guidance.



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