from Temazcal: The Steam House Chronicles

My mouth fell open with the recognition.

Swamp Lantern Woman had been taken over by a traveling spirit.

Her usual pale countenance took on a shimmering blue-green dancing magenta.

She declared pointedly:

Ahhh…this land is fertile; sooo fertile.

It is fertile because it feeds from below.

It sucks the spirit out of everyone.

This is why everyone ceaselessly tries to fill themselves.

There are hungry faces below the ground.

In the land of tall cedars, the powers enrich, fortify.

Raven is open to guiding you.

Salmon.

The rain is open to you.

Mycelium.

What would it be like to allow such a home to claim you?

With a shift of light

and a rising cloud

the night resumed its early Spring thrumming.

Even the moon can become possessed from time to time.


(c) 2019 / Frank LaRue Owen / purelandpoetry.com

sound: excerpt: Glimpses of the Ways Beyond / Toward Distant Hills / Slow Paths Beyond / Andrew Lahiff

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