I had tasted Hawthorne

There is a tree that
grows wild in Seattle.
Her name is Hawthorne.
She is an initiate
of the sexual mysteries
and offers her teachings to those
that dare enter this realm.

I was a budding herbalist, back about 13 years ago. I had tasted Hawthorne flower infusion and decided to go in search of the blossoms in my neighborhood park. It was a cloudy, late April day. I walked to the tree I had discovered a few months back. I gently pulled flower and leaf from the tree, feeling so vulnerable and so peaceful in this task.
I returned home and laid these flowers on a dish cloth to dry.
That night I dreamed of having sex with the Hawthorne tree.
This dream had an other worldly flavor and awaken me to a undiscovered and deeper part of myself. I wrote the following poem in response:

I dreamed last night
I lay on the ground
Next to you
My heart beat rapidly
My body smelled of sex
I writhed on the ground
In ecstatic connection
To you
It must have been dawn
The dawn of an age, perhaps
And I was your captive
As well as set free
To embody my dreams
Of (w)holiness.

May it be in beauty.