whose grief nourished the seeds of our cure,
I honor you.
For the centering
In the familiar rhythms of knife and whisk,
In the way Rosemary rises to wrap me in her scent,
In the unfurling tendrils of life through loam and sinew.
I honor you.
For the awakening
In the sting of the Nettle on swollen joints,
In the visioning of Mugwort wreathing the flame,
In the honeyed rays that warm us within.
I honor you.
Airmid, your salubrious touch a grace upon my life,
hands holding the balance of all healers,
Wise Ancestor of this path I walk,
I honor you.
The prayer is overlaid on an image of a section of the author’s altar/workspace dedicated to Airmid and to herbal healing. Photo edited with Spark Post.
Rooted Flame and a Deep Wellspring 