DATURA PATCH

There are entheogens in datura
That will dry your throat 
And make you mad
But also show you the Gods…

‘Every object has a hinterland
Only revealed by consciousness
When every thing becomes relational…
Cleaving to its symbolic tendencies.*

Datura is a sacred plant
Now much maligned:
Mostly sequestered in roadsides
Ditches and waste lands.

There is a wild datura patch 
Which lays between the oak grove
And an oil-pipe boundary gate
Where it is lovingly tended.

Even now, after heavy rains
There remain a couple of
Bedraggled trumpet blossoms
Nestled white beneath grey leaves.

Its hinterland extends far beyond
History to the aboriginal beginnings
Of these once untrammeled lands
Then tended towards the Vision Quest.

Juice from its pounded root
Was drunk by Chumash boys
At puberty to elicit dreams
Which revealed their spirit helper.

Its potency remains within
My consciousness as a vivid
Source of connection to the past
People and plants conjoined…

In symbiotic relationships
With all that is;
Empowered by their spirit helpers
They then might navigate this Arcadia.

*Being a Human, Charles Foster, 2021