Plant smoke inhaled in a swamp domain… under traveling stars… the dank incense of the dried leaves, and communion with the divine crystal embedded in resinous flower…
The Gods and Goddesses planted them here, on the mother, Jord, Earth, Shakti. And man and woman cultivated the magic plant to converse fore-more with the divine. Inhaled, Exhaled. Silent mantras of :UR: and :OM: to transcend this shell of the body, leaving only husk…
An ancient connection is made, man and woman, become the vessel of their own journey…
The resonance of bones, the sound of insects at night, the shape of trees and shadows, one starts to learn what is ONE and what is all, by the symbols of the land.
By the runes, by the seeds, by the skull, and the ash.
Consumed by the great Medicine, the hamr and transforms, shapeshifting…
filled with the essence of the plant totem, the breath becomes of the wind,
A sacred union is made, in a ritual…
At a pace that escapes the notice of ‘time’
endowed with crystalline smoke, sun rays, moon rays,
cocooning the spirit in foggy webs,
of nine worlds and one, of the supreme tantra which is ALL,
Atavists digging to the roots, of what once was.
The memory, the mind…
the God, the Goddess, the Plant, the :G:ift
:aferalspirit: 