Mycelium and Memory

Listen

And so I drop
in deepest winter dreaming.
Composing
and decomposing,
drifting under
over
and within.

Descending into earth,
to drink its damp offering
and wander
along threads of mycelium and memory.

I clothe myself in remembrance
of green and growing Spring
wild leeks, wood nettle,
linden and service berries.

I revel in joys of blue and brilliant Summer
raspberries, rose hips,
mugwort and milkweed.

I savour gifts of gilded golden Fall
choke cherries and amaranth seeds,
burdock root, sumac, black walnuts
and Rowen berries picked after the first frost.

I carry these with me,
as I drift in an infinite eddy of
conception,
birth,
growth
and
decay.

And in one exquisite instant
of spirals, cycles, and swirls,
their story is revealed to me.

I understand
how perfectly simple it all is.
And that my role
in that gentle whorl of love and death
and dark and light,
is both deeply valued
and completely insignificant.

Link back to Sleep Spells Poems for Dreaming.

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Image source: Desktop Nexus

5 Comments

  1. This is wonderful. My actual reaction in moment came out in 60s slang so I took a second look and my admiration for your insight and ability to capture the process in words grew. Congratulations on a remarkable piece.

    Blessings, Sophia

    Sent from my iPad

    >

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