The Green, Dreaming of Me

❂  The Green, Dreaming of Me  ❂

I was not drawn so much to the darkness as to the crucible,

To wrap myself in crisp white muslin, to enter the desert, the burning sun, 

To walk the serpent’s path to the beating heart at the center of it all. 

Blue eyes fading into red corporeal dusk,

Pain kidnaps blackened feet,

One in front of the other, a trod well worn, both flower and thorn. 

Each cairn a hope, a wish, a prayer, a promise. 

Where is my oasis? 

Thirst licks tear, dust meets knee,

A cry to heaven…

A holy vision - the green, dreaming of me. 

Laura in Death Valley, CA

Laura Smith-Riva is Druid and Dreamworker. This poem was inspired by a 12 day vision fast undertaken with the Shool of Lost Borders in Death Valley, California, USA.