an herb for curses, crucifixions and familiar poisons

Vervain grows in the damp, rich soil of my brother’s field. I’d never seen this herb ‘in the wild’, but I felt instantly recognized by Them; an herb for curses, crucifixions and familiar poisons.

My familial blood is saturated with a breathtaking stubbornness ~ we have been driven, rushed and pressed towards a Dark that seems to have settled like a magnet for guilt and anguish, yet there’s no Breaking. It’s not a quality we can claim as resilience, it’s more of a dogged refusal to Bend for either Punishment or Forgiveness.

I think this is what Vervain seeks out in me, along with my inherent rebelliousness. We all crave lovers whose demons play well with our own, and I’ve found my mate in Vervain. I’ve long loved this fierce, black-blooded folk for its bitter release, severing yoke-like tension with a Grace that’s razor sharp.

Vervain speaks to punishing pain~ as though you’ve been beaten about the head and neck; the blinding tear of migraines that threaten to split the skull down the middle; anxiety that attacks with violent fangs and claws; ravenous hunger that cycles with our flow of blood; anger that feels venomous.
Vervain, both as a flower essence and herb, *feels* like being released from a curse, when it is well indicated. Sometimes we don’t even know who did the cursing- is this something I’ve been driven to, or something I’ve hunted down for myself?

This plant is certainly not afraid of our demons; I rather think it likes them. I’ve never felt such a ripple of dark joy from others when reached for. It seems to rejoice in the mess of it.

It is not lost on me that this herb is associated with curses, crucifixions, cleansing and penance across many peoples, traditions and eras. While it’s too much to wander through here, I’ve spent weeks -months- sitting with the stories and myths.

Perhaps it’s this bloodied blend of demons and our determination to either nail them down or be nailed down by them that creates the perfect storm for Vervain to roll up its sleeves and work with.
I felt a steel-lined peace after meeting it in the pasture. It is hope for my people, permission for the crucifixions to cease, a taste of this Grace we’ve refused.