Rose medicine
Posted on: 29 April 2021
Late November in Sierra de Lújar, Spain
At the end of a crumbling track
Lies a long-forgotten barranco
Rocky folds strewn with tumbling rosehips
Known only by the skylark and wild boar
Gathering these garnet teardrops
I weep for a timeless age
When wise women scrambled
Amongst gorse and rosemary
In the shadow of snow-capped sierras
Now, in tattered times
I wander this bereft land
Comforted by tales of sisters
On distant shores
Threading rosehip malas
And offering ceremonial petals
To the fire
A vicious thorn pricks my bare flesh
Crimson blood
Reminds me of that bitter winter
Traversing Balkan lands
Ancestral medicine is strong these days
The wild rose whispers me back
To the path less travelled
Release she says
Let go.