SANTA MARIA JUANA, Flower of Ganga, Hair of Shiva, Kaya, Body of the Lamb, Breath of Jah, your leaves grow for the healing of the nations, for the kindling of inner breath. Forgive me that my love for you has turned greedy, a thing of habit. Forgive that I forget your holy flowers come to me only by your mercy. May I enjoy the company of your spirit, though your body enters not into mine. Let my portion of your precious smoke rise for others who have not known you so well. I want to be with you always, though we both burn to ashes, and so I have gone to you and used you to for the delight of sensory experiences, taking your spirit and your lessons for granted. In the play of senses and the whirlwind of thoughts stirred up by your spinning dance I am lost. In my confusion I have recognized only your physical form, ignoring the spirit dancer that lives within the delicate pavilion of your flower. I pay the highest respects to that spirit, and to the spirits of all the plants that grow upon the earth and in the sea.