The graveyard pilgrimage was
The foreword
To the Yew’s ancient story.
Captivated
By her roots
Cradling the decaying
Human bodies
in the composting wet earth.
Kidnapped
By her timeless vortex
Before even turning to
Page one.
An almost comical reminder
Of human mortality and
Our grand star dust insignificance.
An instinctive urge
Surged through me
To remove my
Shoes
As she came into vision.
No physical noticeboard
SHOUTING orders
No need.
As my soul read
The sixth dimensional signs
With ease.
They were pointing clearly to the
Holiness of the Yew.
A deep sense of humility
Enveloped over me like a liquid trance
Filling the bottom of my
Parched inner well
Rising up through me
And spilling over.
Her presence more heavenly
Than anything I have ever seen before
Possessing far more divinity
Than any mortal human.
Her structure itself a symbol
Of birth and death
Rebirthing from her roots
Sending out new trunks
Over and over and
Over.
The infinite circle of life
Pulsating
Swirling
Stressing the temporariness
Of our physical vessels.
Every death of every trunk
Transferring energy and souls
In a deadly cauldron
Of medicine and poison.
She embraced
Death itself
With a grace that
No woman or man could muster.
She held up a banner saying:
This is how I have survived time.
She has not just survived time
But she has lived and loved and grieved.
And lived and loved and grieved.
She herself had become death
And it was that becoming
That empowered her to
Live and love and grieve
And live and love and grieve.
The ancestor and guides and angels
Were dense in the ether
Hundreds of the whitest feathers lay
Scattered around her trunk
Worshipping her holy feet
A mystical army encircling her.
My feet sunk into her underworld
Insects crawling over my skin
But I did not squirm
As I was no longer separate
I was part of her oneness.
I wept at her beauty
I wept at the earth-shattering
Deference that I experienced
Rippling through my everything
I wept at the bliss of my reverence.
And it was in that moment,
That I knew I could only experience
T H I S
In the presence of ‘God’
In the presence of
The glorious almighty whole.
And there it was
The missing piece of my soul
The one I had been searching for my whole life.
It was she – Mother Nature – that was indeed
My Goddess, my source, my love, my deity.
A cog clicked together in my body
I was planted in the earth
Cradled by the wet fertile soil
And I bowed down in almighty reverence
To the one and only
To the Great Mother herself.
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