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Poem

He went on an ayahuasca retreat
searching for that magical seed
to lead him up the stalk to his soul's treasury.
This white-collar fellow with money to burn
sitting before an old shaman, 
who'd so much to teach and 
he with so much to learn-

They quietly sipped the potion - 
the trip soon arrived
on a psychedelic current
virgin constellations branding the eye.

After this ayahuasca Odessey 
he told of wonderful things he'd gazed- 
secret places he'd breeched...
the mind expanding to the fringes of time
where he'd kissed a gilded silhouette of Jesus Christ. 

He asked If I'd like to board the next mind expansion ride.
thinking about it for a second, I politely declined.
I was concerned about ingesting a bad batch, 
clashing with a brass knuckled devil
mind erosion then total mental contraction.

I'm somewhat content strolling in sundial moments
reaching for the tail of miracles void of all earthly potions.

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