First off,

 

this is folk practice, the garlic honey deep in the cupboard, the collecting of willowherbs and herb

robert in a blue cup, writing a recipe with a pen almost out of ink, a prayer scrawled on a hot walk, a

poem with the zeal of a chant, playful instruction, lunar almanac—Remember that.

 

But also,

 

learn how to go through the day without your tears turning lagoon, know the salt line that runs

through your lineage, tend to taproot, to starfish the size of a ruby, write yourself into familial space,

this is a question that never needs an answer.

 

Walk into a rainforest of teenage girl ancestors, talking peonies, and bloodied knees.

 

In addition,

 

this is for ship voyages, feet voyages, dream voyages, practicing furious, frenzied survival with silver

candlesticks and the blessing of passenger angels, breathing underwater, this little life a small bubble

triumph, each day a sliver miracle.

 

But most of all,

 

these instructions are to celebrate

those who brew strong

cups of joy when only grief

is served.