Reciprocity is the way
you reverently place your hand against the trunk of a tree
without immediately asking for its wisdom.
It is the pause before picking a daffodil.
The smile of introduction.
The recognition that you are not standing before a resource
but before a life.
It is leaving the last few berries on the bush
knowing you are not the only one being fed.
It is remembering that forests cooperate underground.
Roots exchanging nutrients in the dark
without ownership.
Without separation.
It is expressing gratitude to the river.
Sometimes with attentive silence.
Sometimes with a song.
It is understanding that the deer owes you nothing.
Not a sighting.
Not symbolism (though meaning may still emerge).
Not magic (though wonder is always welcome).
It is asking the ocean what it needs from you
before asking it to heal you.
It is listening before picking up a stone.
Feeling for a yes.
Respecting, and leaving it be if the answer is no.
It is opening the window in the morning
so the house can breathe, too.
It is changing the altar cloth.
Refilling the birdbath.
Blessing the tea kettle.
Taking a single breath of thanks before digging into a meal.
It is realizing ceremony was never confined
to temples or candlelight.
It is also the quiet way a dish is washed
when water is not taken for granted.
It is intending to take only what your hands can honor.
It is becoming human again
through humility.
A giving and receiving
so woven together
that eventually
you can no longer tell the difference
between giving and receiving.