Old tree medicine

old tree medicine

calling me in

to placid silence

like that of heron

or newt

to sit with humble teachers

of Earth

and Flesh

and Bone

and Breath

I arrive

shedding, emptying

in preparation

to sit with master

to listen

with upmost fervency

to be filled

with stories of

how it all came to be

tales of life and death

decay and renewal

lessons from

years in the darkness

bound in ligneous prisms

survival

reliant on collaboration

intrinsically

innately

reconstituting

the world around them

intuitively

creating home in their wake

woven

inextricably

oh how they’ve seen

so much change

our altruistic ancestors

reaching out

through dark, moist corners

lichen-laden niches

mossy crevices

of elder tree body

like sap,

like spell,

erupting forth from cambium

in chitinous prestige

coaxing heartwood

to release it’s tight bonds

in a slow return

back to soil

these ones

whom so graciously

cast their wisdom forth

informing

our bodies & spirits

with droplets

and dropperfuls

dosing millions of years

of lived experience

as interface organisms

bridging

light and dark

and revealing

how to truly be

in reciprocity

the porous ones

the varnished ones

the fibrous ones

the maze gilled

the rosy fleshed

the cinnamon dusted

working together

helping to untether

the very fabric

of our grasping

so we may remember

the nature

of our belonging

and to breathe

without gasping