Indian tobacco and snakeroot have yet to blossom.
Folklore, myths, and trails beg to be explored -
yet I find my eyes clinging to haloed light
filtered between slits of ridge top pines;
yearn for sun's blessing upon my skin -
descend into darkness,
enveloped by a trembling reverence.
Find a bit of salvation
in pocketed fingertips lightly caressing
Seymour's "Wildflowers of Mammoth Cave" -
quietly murmur "Amen".
by Margaret Bednar, June 12, 2015
This is linked with the challenge "Imaginary Garden of Real Toads - Herotomost's Friday Challenge - the Cavern of My Thoughts".
About 20 years ago I descended into the depths of Mammoth Cave in Kentucky. As much as I was mesmerized by what I saw, I also have never repeated it - I had mixed emotions - perhaps the fear of going down with my young children had something to do with it. I will admit, given a choice, I will happily explore the flora and fauna of a forest as opposed to what's below its surface.