Spell of Beginnings
A Spell. A Stitch. A Beginning.
I weave strands of liminal words spun from fibrous roots and starlight.
I thread in winter’s breath and summer’s hot touch.
I gather the velvet caress of roses,
the memory of rosemary leaves,
and the portal power of mushrooms.
I collect stories and symbols.
I convene with silence.
I braid in the healing of cannabis,
and the creativity of marigold petals.
A spell is cast.
A net thrown wide.
Awaiting.
