8.27.2023

Textures and Patterns

 from a recent trip to Blackwater Falls Nat'l Park:












    



"I am a frayed and nibbled survivor in a fallen world, and I am getting along. I am aging and eaten and have done my share of eating too.
I am not washed and beautiful, in control of a shining world in which everything fits, but instead am wandering awed about on a splintered wreck I’ve come to care for, whose gnawed trees breathe a delicate air, whose bloodied and scarred creatures are my dearest companions, and whose beauty beats and shines not in its imperfections but overwhelmingly in spite of them, under the wind-rent clouds, upstream and down.”
- Annie Dillard, 'Pilgrim at Tinker Creek'



















3.04.2023

Who Can Ride the Dragon?

like a death, this is the true beginning
drag your body to the altar
quality of sweetness, rooted in sacrifice
drop down into the silence
healing by fire
eludes language
the doorkeeper
together in the woods
at the root of our own
she is the passion
swept away in a hurricane
visions in detail
all who dwell
the sacred balance
the sun goes down
and celebration
something in it, offering
chance to let go
return to the sacred
laid down her yarn.

8.03.2022

This, the first day of the rest of our lives

and as I swatted at the fly
it was as if sliced through spacetime
breaking it into a kaleidoscope of many
I usually do not like to kill things
but this death brought more
and the more was good.

And so our story begins

I closed my eyes
it was as though illuminated from within
darkness did not fall as usual
with the falling of my lids
but rather light
and the more I looked
I began to see
my own eye looking back at me
and it blinked
and looked around
seeing me from within
seeing everything at all.

A myriad of bug bites
had appeared overnight
itching up a storm
like mystical pinpoints of union with the divine
infecting me with an awakened fury
recalling a time, that as a child
I had that fever
and that fleeting glimpse

The song, it played for me,
and I for it.

Oh the muse
from whence does she go
to where does she come

All of our knowing
is built on a foundation
of indigeneity -
no matter how far we have strayed

it’s there
at the root
our core churning
out the truth
ineffable though it is
it calls to us on the wind…

The Queen, She is reborn.


6.25.2021

My kind of lunatic fringe.

  The Luna Moth sees me

with her antennae and eye spots too
likewise I see her back with my sensual body
my antennae and eye spots cast and open.

Antennae - feathered and astounding sensorial receptors
Eye spots like velvet alert snakes.
What pray tell is put before me ...

may I know this relationship that has summoned.

My kind of lunatic fringe.

4.29.2021

Bedtime Gallop

 



 Starlight     wrested from its mooring of day. 

Night-weary cloak upon me

                    the leaden weight    

                                        of joy

                                weighs heavy with the knowledge

                                the scales tip as deep 

           in the other direction.



Sleep        a diamond mine trawled through

    longing for relief

                a thousand points of light.

The sullen waning Moon        running rough-trod through my fears.



With each settling

the words

they come

insistent on my recording.

My hand     furious     in attempt at catching

                                                        the mind's flight of fancy

                                                        the heart's embrace

                                                            of a moment    undone.



Vine and bracken        scrawled across the page

    painstaking indulgence

    stirred by cricket hymn.


Spring's unfolding

    redemption and torment

                        a banquet    laden with fruits

            soon enough to rot.



Not every bird caught in hand,

not every stone cast,

    we set out.



Full and empty.


Clutching at pearls

    of loss and longing

words slip by

    many lost to the night...








(Photos:  Yellow-Bellied Sapsucker Holes in a decades-old landscape Holly)


11.21.2020

Chop Water

 The first birdsong breaks the call of night

    freeing me from the churning of its depths,

           
gratefully released from the tumult of waiting 

                                                                         for the day    

                                                                         to break.

                                                            Night already having broken itself     

                                                                                                    upon me.

                                                            Taking me, despite its starry silence,

                                                                into the noise of pain past

                                                                                           pain future.



No thunder marked these heaving internal crests, but I was

    struck

    all the same by the rumbling.

The day before, though punctuated by long sought, abiding gratifications,


    was one of those that had to be put out of its misery                         - destruction hard to bear.

    

    on the tail of several seasons that have each and every triggered

    

    in the midst of years of societal growing pains.



We make do

    and we do make

        and it is done.


Life goes on

    with or without us

    I go on

    with Life    

        all of it                                                                                             - creation will take its turn.






8.17.2020

Hark


Awakened
        by a Crow
        Cawing in the morning light
I sit up
wresting myself from sleep
        so as to hear their message

        What is foretold
on this bright day becoming
                Light
                upon a smattering of leaves at the edges
                my first sight greeting me from the window

                Crickets
                herald the rest of the vibrant eulogy
                and Cicadas and Katydids soon follow
                for they know in death there is life

All going round
All what is
IS

And with that
I take my first step into the day
one step closer to death
and in that embrace
even more alive than before

With All
I AM.

5.31.2020

Coronation, or the Act of Crowning, with Mullein


When I was dealing with Corona in my lungs a couple months ago, I utilized Mullein in my formula.  I had some already harvested and dried at that time, but decided that I should also harvest some more to have on hand with this respiratory virus going around.  Mullein is heavy this year, as plants seem often want to do when they are needed, showing their perfect timing and immersion in the flow.
While harvesting I began to sing to Mullein about what was going on and why I was harvesting her leaves and then to sing to the virus that was meshing with my body. 

I'm not singer, but I am a long-time student of breath as a mindfulness practice, and the virus had made me short of breath, just doing simple activities like picking Mullein.  This shortness of breath for no real reason* (I wasn't running up a hill - nor did I have a knee on my neck) was a new experience for me (having never had asthma or pneumonia or anything like it) and I felt it important that I try to deep breathe and stay in touch with my lungs.  I think this is why the singing happened, this undeniable connection to breath.  I felt compelled and I obliged. 


The vibrations from singing with what little breath I could take felt healing for my body, just as I feel the cat's healing medicine when they lean against my chest and purr.  I am thankful for the ~sound.~  I sang to the virus as yet another way to connect to this other part of life that was finding its terrain in my body - lyrics of a willingness to hear its song too.  A mutual expression of meeting, of life, of relationship, of learning.


And here, this weekend, Mullein comes to me again in the most majestic form.  Truly a crowning.  <3




Corona is teaching us to look at what we are giving birth to; various things are coming to term that have long been in the works, but we still have choices to make as to have they are received and what we do with what is born unto us.







Also, I wanted to share my formulary for those who know the herbs well enough by sight.  I do not want to simply share a list of the herbs I utilized to get through the acute stages as they may not be the right ones for you.  There is not a one size fits all answer in Herbalism as the body that a pathogen engages plays a role in how the pathogen manifests - and even if it manifests at all.  This means that herbs are utilized for the specific body that has symptoms and what those symptoms are; Herbalism is not a 'take this for that' modality.  So my formula for Corona may not be your formula for Corona and you do not want to make yourself worse; so please consult with a qualified practitioner if you are wanting to utilize herbs for Corona.  But for those who know the herbs and understand differential diagnosis, I will share pictures for you to see what I utilized, and feel free to talk to me privately.


Mullein, Raspberry Leaf, and Boneset were infused with the decoction below.





Many of you will recognize fresh sliced Ginger root and dried Citrus peel; these support digestion among other things.  This is the formula I used at the peak of acuity with Corona when I felt I was going toward cytokine storm territory.  Severe lung pain that had began at the bottom and worked its way up to feel it was encompassing them, wracking "bone" pain, could hardly take a breath, headache, strange heartbeat, severe fatigue, runny nose, sore throat, neck pain.  I noticed immediate results from the formula.  I had been on a different formula leading up to this point, and after peaking and feeling "better" I moved to formulas more nourishing and recovery oriented. 
I am still doing this now, but seem to have been left with a strange, but not severe, "achiness" in my whole body and strange pains I am not used to along with hands or fingers going to sleep for no reason.  I am working to alleviate this, focusing on Blood.  I no longer have the list of symptoms I had before, all that is cleared up except I still have fatigue, though it's nowhere near what it was.


12.08.2019

words.

words.  seeming inviolable.  and at once perturbed.
a mist receding.
the darkness conjures and the light reflects.
but where did they go.  the tail spins off and I am lost again.
a myriad of destinations.  leading nowhere.
and straight home to me.

11.14.2018

Pareidolia



Welp, it has been forever since I posted; can you tell I am building a house?  Lots of the things I used to do, and plan to get back to, have fallen to the wayside in order to focus on this massive project.  It's an interesting phase in life, a all-encompassing hiatus, sorta like getting a degree or having a newborn.

Nonetheless, I just had a much-needed vacation and went to Georgia for the American Herbalist Guild Symposium and also got to explore some of the surrounding mountains of the Chattahochee National Forest.  It's gorgeous down there!  The vibrant, yet gentle, light and color of the changing leaves soothed my soul.  I want to share a few of the highlights here; may they soothe you too.

First, a minute-long video for you to pause and take a deep breath and center yourself.
This was taken near a large waterfall which you will hear.  Just breathe as you watch; that is all you need to do.  Let the water wash away your tensions, your cares fall away with the leaves.






"Tension is who you think you should be.  
Relaxation is who you are." 
- Chinese Proverb







“You drown not by falling into a river, 
but by staying submerged in it.”
- Paulo Coelho






"I planted my self in the middle of a great many Glasses full of Dew, tied fast about me, upon which the Sun so violently darted his Rays, that the Heat, which attracted them, as it does the thickest Clouds, carried me up so high, that at length I found my self above the middle Region of the Air."
 - Cyrano de Bergerac






Once upon a time, when women were birds, there was the simple understanding 
that to sing at dawn and to sing at dusk was to heal the world through joy. 
The birds still remember what we have forgotten, that the world is meant to be celebrated.” 
- Terry Tempest Williams








"The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, 
but in having new eyes."
 - Marcel Proust  





“A Woman in harmony with her spirit

is like a river flowing.

She goes where she will without pretense 

and arrives at her destination

prepared to be herself

and only herself ” - Maya Angelou










“The most common form of despair is not being who you are.” 
― Søren Kierkegaard





“Omnia mutantur, nihil interit”
(Everything changes, nothing perishes)
― Ovid, Metamorphoses  











“Trees are sanctuaries. 
Whoever knows how to speak to them, 
whoever knows how to listen to them, 
can learn the truth. 
They do not preach learning and precepts, 
they preach, 
undeterred by particulars, 
the ancient law of life.”
-Hermann Hesse, 'Wandering'




“Poetry is what happens when nothing else can.” 
― Charles Bukowski











“Whether you try too hard to fit in 
or you try too hard to stand out, 
it is of equal consequence: 
you exhaust your significance.” 
― Criss Jami





“your life is your life
don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is a light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them.
take them.
you can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in you.” 


― Charles Bukowski, "The Laughing Heart."  from 'Betting on the Muse'










Breathe, the path awaits your presence...