Ancient Brew

You will be called, not through choice.

The whisper of the serpent echoes.

Into your being she calls, incessant;

Until the decision is made.

 

Caress her brew, chants of love.

Hours upon hours,

She bows in gratitude, her message now able.

Bitter, yet unmeasurable and wordless.

 

Lips breached, nowhere to hide;

Meandering through your soul.

Like Amazonia,

The shadow illuminates, take a look.

 

A stone rose,

Roc solid, but soft and beautiful.

From the depths of darkness,

To the light of spirit.

Stand strong immortal one,

The benefit is great.

 

Night now mature, but don’t look up,

You’ll be lost in wonder, the Universe gleaming.

Dance for a while, or sit and be still;

Your heart has been woven, healed.

 

Now take all with you;

The messages she weaved;

Until next time, Madré.

Gratitude.

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