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I embody the sacred root of Mandragora in the ways
which I navigate the earth’s underworld,
being and feeling with eyes closed,
safe in darkness, fed by sacred soil.
Now I send my mandrake walking
to awaken ancient roots and vines,
to stir up rocks and sand and
to shift those faulty tectonics underground;
they lie in wait for revival.
I invoke my mystical mandrake man
and send him forth to relieve and restore.
Arms and legs growing, reaching,
with the intent to expand and explore.
And soon enough, I pray,
I will find the right words
to send my mandrake talking.
January 6, 2014
For previous poems published by Ladybud, click here.
Photo Credit: Paul K under (CC BY 2.0) via Flickr