Day 29. Ascending to Imbolc. Deep root dandelion song

Words from the poem on top of a drawing of a beautiful old crone witch by artist Sam Goodlet, Samdrawsthings Deep root dandelion song

There’s something missing from this garden.
The smooth path runs symmetrically,
Without cracks or spaces for life to creep in
Across the striped, groomed grass.

They were looking for perfection
But its not here.
Like…they missed the point.
Where will the bees find what they need?
Falling hot and out of buzz
Onto the hot grey nothing.

The stories with deep roots are missing, 
The words with the edges worn
From years kept in a pocket
Just for this day.
The dirtiest seen it all laugh
The wrinkles from a lifetime of smiles and tears.

So we don’t see the stories written on her skin.
Did she want to forget?
Did she not want us to know?
Was she silenced?
Did they just say
’No, there’s no place for you now.
You’re too old.’

The dandelion raises one eyebrow
And white threads weave down around and through the cracks.
Drinking deep,
Where the soil is moist and juicy.
She lifts her chin and her petals spread to meet the sun, 
Yellow reflecting yellow,
Teethed leaves breathing in.
Surviving a drought
That kills the rose bush.
And then yellow fades to white,
Pert petals go to soft seed,
And time whirls away on a breeze
To the sound of a sigh
And a child’s joyful laughter.