Walking Medicine

I was sitting by the blue lagoon
The little waterfall fell behind my ears

There are many kinds of medicine

They all have a purpose
All here
To heal specific woes
And pains
Waiting for the right
Mouths to find them

They wait
Day and night
Becoming and beaming
Radiating themselves
Only that

Does a dandelion wish to be sweet flag?

True, dandelion is a heal all
Maybe the pipsissewa
Waiting under the canopy of the beech
wishes it were a dandelion
A radiant yellow
in the full sun
in lush grasses

It is not

It radiates its own peculiar resonance
silencing doubt
in the heart
of the fearful

I find it resting at my feet
Perfect
As it is

Pipsissewa doesn’t wish to be dandelion

Only humans
Wish such silly things
As to be other than they are

This is what I heard

Be the walking medicine that you are

There is no doubt that you are here to heal
Those who need your medicine will find you

Dandelion, sweet flag, pipsissewa
All have their own truths

Seek them as they are
Let them open in you
what seeks to bloom

Pollinate in others
only what you can

Be the walking medicine that you are