Dandelion Wisewoman

Rooted in Green Mountain Piedmont,

Near winter-melt cataracts

And cloistered ephemeral pools,

A woman walks forest paths —

The dandelion her guide home.


The locals seek her sage advice

Over herbal infusions

And garlic-sautéed garden greens —

A feast simple and sacred,

Her prayer to the Great Divine.


Amid spiraling sweetgrass smoke,

She channels nature’s wisdom

To apprentices young and old —

Always one with the roots of

Taraxacum officinale.


But now, with George at its threshold,

The Otherworld's veil unfolds …

So she puts affairs in order,

Counselled by the plant spirits

Her soul recognizes as kin.

Though an indeterminate time

Remains of her blessed Earth Walk,

Her teachings and love will scatter

In numerous directions —

Dandelion seeds on the wind.