It was the beginning of summer when she appeared in my garden. There was nothing else like her and she has graced the eastern corner all summer. She has grown tall and spread her whimsical leafy stalks as far as the other plants allowed her to stretch. Her leaves are almost silver, featherlike, and the wind passes between them like lovers ebb and flow.
One morning, early, before Grandfather Sun was fully awake she danced a waltz like stroll in a lilac full skirt with a cloth bag overflowing with tenderness and spoke to me. She called herself Artemisia. “I’ve fallen from the planet Venus and my mystic medicines are many. It is in my design to love and care for the people in your circles. Bring their heartaches to me and I will heal them.”
Her eyes were like looking through a thick green glass and her hair fell down the middle of her back in a haze of smoke. I believed her from the beginning and I knew she was growing in my garden because she loved me. Summer is almost over and this morning I went to Artemisia and listened to her message singing on the wind. “The people are crying, they are burdened with unrest and heaviness. You must pray for them and teach them to pray to plants, to trees, to mountains, and to oceans. We are all here waiting to be asked. My medicine is on this earth to help the people find their way through dreaming. Tell the people to dream of peace, to dream of hope, and we will help them.”