Marijuana Woman

artist unkown.

Marijuana,
In my experience,
is the medicine of the masters
and I'll tell you why

She is a woman.
A jealous woman.  Someone once told me that.

The trick to lulling her equally,
Sensimilla,
is to love her enough
that she feels
no jealousy over you,
that you will coax her into her
mushroom vapor
plume body

that she may yeild easily
into the yoni space

In fact,  not only has she been called jealous
she is also possessive

And she's worth it.

I always felt that if I were a plant medicine
as a female,
in my earth body
I would be marijuana

She's the only woman I write poetry to.
Why?
Because she has earned my beautiful words
on the blank pages of my mind
and through her vines and sinews
I will explore the many strokes
given by the creator

Because my mind she opened
into a thousand spaces
very gently
and for all the right reasons

I love her because she is my first love.
She taught me the love of all green loves
By never ceasing to be with me
She came to me through
a small glass aquarium of THC molecules swimming into my flesh
softly bouncing inside the walls of my cells
softening me
as I expanded
into every next me
I would ever become,

through her lightest touch.

Someone once told me,
the greatest power
is with the lightest touch

I'll tell you why.
Because she captivates you so softly
so naturally and in such a rhythmic hive
that when you realize she is there in you,
you just let go
and melt into her
softly and glowing
vibrating alone
in your heart
and everywhere else

and then once you are there,
she leaves you there.
she leaves you

And this is true love.
Don't hate her
Mari never intended to be needed
she only intended
to show you
the way
back

Don't you see?
This woman is moon medicine
earth medicine
cool water in a rivulet medicine

A silver bird
a green vine
a sticky secretion
on the side of your mouth

to always remind you
she was there
until you let her go

and that's why I never
let her go
Marijuana

Because she lets me give her my power
and she lets me take it back

so that i can make it
into this poem
on this book of plant flesh
in this wooden cave of lights

she always calls
but never seeks an answer.
she simply calls,
just to let her fluxuating voice
raise through the spiral airwave

she's calling, soft and present
quiet and pervasive
her voice always ringing
through your throat into air
released through to your limbs
into your earth and
lifting you off into the sky
to wherever else you wish

and that's why I gave into her pull
because she never lied to me
she only rose
from the ashes
of my archaic mind
into the light above
my head

marijuana

-Laura Weber

Marijuana and Sex: Another Poem about the love of lady ganja.  http://cocreatingself.blogspot.com/2013/07/marijuana.html