my head speak to my soul from
under my pillow. I drink the occult
of the night as dreams of Goddess
Artemis surface. In a forest, among
the silver glow of the leaves, raucous
blue veins shine through the lush,
foliage. Artemisia exhales terra and
bitter and fluorescent voodoo. I feel:
into this moment, in these green trees,
into the pantheist sea and
into the fold of nature’s embrace.
I trust as I am turned inside out, alive,
in the twine of mystery. I glide:
into this spiral, in the fold of descent,
into the broad, fresh waterfall and
into the crest of the universe.
The magic in the wave peels away the
curtain of mundane and swells against the
humdrum of everyday’s stage. I day break
to mugwort crumpled in my hand. Medicine
guides a vision of me, out of that shadow
where I hang, out of the darkness into light.
Helen has a fine arts degree from St. Michael's College, Vermont and after the birth of her children, left a successful career in marketing to write and paint. She has been published in literary magazines and is currently working on a book of poetry about healing from a ski accident. When she is not busy developing her craft, she teaches yoga and ayurvedic cooking classes.