Poem of the Day: “digging oshá”

digging   oshá

kneeling on the soft bed
of the forest floor,
my hands close to my face
while you lovingly photograph
amazing minutiae meticulously

i busy myself rooting around
the dark tangled base of an old osha

mind murmurs creekside,
lips mumbling medicinal
vegetal greenman supplication

it is deeply satisfying, therapeutic;
something in the digging and the damp humus
feels primary, familiar and ancient
. . . automatic

i think to myself, nearly laughing
why is this so deeply satisfying

i think to myself, i was born to this

as born to this as i am
to the “ah”-filled sighing
when you release
your softest afternoon breath

both of us on the forest floor on all fours
as your aperture narrows to focus
and widens to receive the beauty
of the fungal form before you

liberated by hand, this root
favored by bears as medicine
and known also as loveroot,
comes into the soft sunlight
for the first time, cold and dark
. . . aromatic


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