“Faeries, come take me out of this dull world,
Low to the ground.
Washing my feet in the morning dew.
Reaching down to wash my face.
Tiny mushrooms homes for the fae creatures.
Dew drops light their way as they reflect the Sun.
Like green lampposts that speak good fortune
As winged creatures gaze into their depths.
Crystal balls revealing parts and pieces of the weave.
What is in store?
There is silence from human chatter.
No machine haunts my senses.
The Sun, the grass and my imagined self shrunk down to speck.
This is my home.
This is my space.
This is my sanctuary.
Void of any outside force of distraction.
Protected by the Pines.
Gifted by the Oak.
Cleansed by the Cedar.
There's traps for ogres and trolls.
The fae are paid in cream and honey,
And keep the space sacred.
The Sun touches each space it'll his rising time.
The Moon greets him on her way to slumber.
Low to the ground.
I wash my feet, my hands, my brow.
Blessed in knowing.
Blessed in learning.
Blessed in loving.
Blessed in living.
This day begins and I start anew.
Nothing weighs me down.
All is washed away by the healing morning dew.
Large and small fae creatures mingle and few know the sound.
This is my blessing.
To hear, to see, to taste and touch the ethereal.
The ones who hide from the rest
They break bread with me.
It is the simplest, most intricate events in this life that cultivate slowly to make the greatest things happen. These small weavings through time are a treasures we often overlook. Walk each moment in a way that leaves you whole and not wanting. Not always the way it goes but surely the way most rewarding, most memorable and most pleasing when hindsight sits at your feet, beckoning you to understand the lesson.
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Your medicine is in the woods.
Your pharmacy is in your kitchen.