*Smoke Bundle Some assembly required
First I pluck Nettle.
Gloved up, because it does not play nice.
Three times it’s given me the needle -
this plant spirit ally challenge.
Is it needlessly mad at me,
or teaching me about boundaries?
Next up is Sage,
Certainly convinced she knows everything;
she struts about as if leading a seminar,
sashays demurely- sexy - yet sage.
Follow her teachings and you, too,
can smoulder with soul.
Down-to-earth Dandelion crashes in.
Always necessary…neccessary…necessary,
needed - bringing dazzling delight,
granting your most dizzying desires.
Wishes and dreams dispensed
on demand - disseminated with one blow.
Presently - or perhaps “late,” we mean -
Pear Blossom arrives,
exuding subtle perfume, her pale blooms
just waiting to be pollinated,
her petals falling like confetti paper,
whispering about transience, beauty in the ephemeral.
I twist them together with twine and guesswork:
a smoke-cleansing bouquet built
from confusion, conviction,
and whatever was in the backyard.
It doesn’t need to be perfect—just knot perfect;
after all, every smoke bundle should be tied up tight.
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