Saturday, March 27, 2010

Sludgy Lung Elixir

Spring tends to evoke maladies of the lungs, especially in those who are of pitta - kapha constitution. Something of the watery-warm thaw creates a synonymous action in our bodies. Of course it isn't the only way in which our bodies bring us back to the awareness of the fact that we are inseparable from all life on Earth.

A simple elixir of Earth's healing herbs can bring us healing and relief in our lungs, whether a viral and swollen throat or painful, persistent, spasmodic cough.

Lung Elixir

To a 1 Quart size mason jar add:

1 Tbsp Cloves, dried
2 Tbsp Elecampane root, dried (double for fresh rt)
4 Tbsp Wild Black Cherry bark, dried (double for fresh bark/twig)
6 Tbsp Cinnamon bark, dried chips (if you have fresh cinnamon you are lucky!)
1/2 Cup Ginger root, fresh sliced (1/4 cup if dried rt)

Fill the jar of herbs 3/4 of the way full with brandy or alcohol of choice.
Fill the remaining 1/4 of the jar with god local honey.
Apply label with details and record in your herb journal or calendar.

Variations can be made to your liking, for example you may want to add a little fresh turmeric if you tend to get bronchitis or if viruses set into your muscles and make you ache all over.
If you're making this for your children, you can add dried elderberries and reduce the amount of ginger and elecampane to improve the taste and add the immune and lung strength of elder.
If you have a favorite lung herb, of course you can be as creative and intuitive as you wish. If this sounds like too drying of a remedy for you, add it to a demulcent mallow, violet, sassafras leaf, or elm infusion and sip it that way. Remember that our mucilage carries our antibodies, so befriend the good snot and keep it working. And remember too how slippery cinnamon can be.

If you need immediate relief, these same herbs at approximately 1/4 of the recipe can be steeped in 2 quarts simmering water for 30+ minutes and drunk as an effective decoction.

Allow one moon (month) for the extraction of your elixir to take place. Sing to it, shake it, admire the changes. Set it out in the full moon to absorb the healing powers of the water element.

Use small amounts in hot water or tea as needed.

Happy Spring

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Make it Your Own

What's there that I missed?
In the mist the whisper
the list of the missing
things I ditched
and left? Or things
I feared and ran
from before I landed
in quicksand in locked
eyes with danger or wit
too great, never mind
fate. I hate
the longing that haunts
and shows up to taunt
my every blinking
breath, my wanton
I sew words in hopes
of a better suture
My life's true suitor
green in curly scapes
in summer
shapes make their ways
through my daze

Dancing plays
and tumbleweed
where's the feed
for souls
like me

Lost in wondering
singing silent
where's the insatiable quest
the drive in my chest
the blindness to test

Lest I wake in another life
with tails untied and tasks
Denied of dreams
of rose petaled streams
of bamboo leaps
and leaf colored leotards
Scribbled in air
scripted in sinew
imprinted on eyes
on karma's long thighs

How the waiting narrates
story lines
arabesque lies
of no pain but inside
as the pages they flip
on waiting's hip
I trip up and hiccup and
flat face first into muscled tree arms and soar
beyond writing OR
So write AND
dance-pick flowers-make life all yours.

Monday, March 15, 2010


Saplings all over my yard
I reach my heart out
Listening for hers
I can taste her tingle
just by thinking

She opens
says hello
says 'welcome daughter'
we start again

in the arms of Mother
and the sky of father Sun
we re-create

I am sweetest
on a warm day
after a deep sleep
I am strongest
with my family all around me.
I am most happy
when there is sun on my skin
and space for me to claim.

I am versatile
but never a pushover
I have my place in this world.

My Medicine is new
and it is old.
I heal the wounds
unhealed by time.

Open your heart, child,
we are all in this together.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Song for Together

The water-like ripples of the bird songs wake me
lifting my eyelids from their slumber
like a miniature sunrise

My quaky bones stretch like cold birch limbs
into the courting air of March
humming silent murmurs to the hidden flowers

My heart reaches for the melted ground
where the leaf litter crumbles
into muddy compost

Yet my ears still search
for the calling home
for the welcoming.

Where's the village song?
Where's the calling down
of the rain
and the blissful chant of the grain?

Where is the Daughter when the Mother falls ill
Where is Grandpa when the Son's heart breaks
Where is the feeling of together.

Far away we fly
on metal wings
slicing through flocks
to get to the beach or the jungle
"to see the world"

To see that it's true in some ways
in some pockets far away
that we do call with our voices
the rain, the sun, the agony, the blessings
We sing in the spring
And chant our mourning
until the haunting dissolves

And in our pocket here
where bounty is expected
and freedom reigns
we wake lonely
with the bruising of far away pains.

Where is the Daughter when Mama falls ill?
She's flying overseas calling home on her cell

Where are the Grandpa's with stories to tell?
They're back at the homestead; abandoned home-shell.

We're selling our souls to the mortgage Gods
and breaking our backs to feel worthy.
We're starving for wholeness of wheat and of tribe.
We're selling our fancy new knowledge
for what? Cars? Fashion? Pride?

I rise from my sleepy blankets and listen
for that call of the red bird
to sing me back home
to the vision of whole
where I can rest my birch bones.

Where the sunrise is sung
up by children
and the stories are still told
where the trees are known from each season's skin
and the senses stir wisdom from deeper within

I call out my voice to the wandering souls
to the hearts lost on the islands alone
to sing yourself home to the land
you call home
and sink in to the flavor of each moment born

How we long for the leaves to speak
to us
for the roots to tell us when to plant
How we long to belong
to feel safe
and yet free

How we long to sing
our wild heart song
to the wind and hear her call us hers.
How we long to shed our costumes of "independence"
and fall hopelessly in love with togetherness.