The Ember Path

Where ash has settled, hope ignites, In whispered prayers on sleepless nights. Microdose of jungle song— The vine that hums, "You still belong."

A sip, not plunge, into the soul, No swirling storm—just slow control. A sacred nudge, a softened gaze, Through shadow-work and sober maze.

The Steps we climb, with calloused hands, Now softened by the vine’s commands. Not to escape, but to unfold— The pain we hide, the truths we hold.

We seek a power not our own, Yet feel it surge in bark and bone. Step by step, and leaf by leaf, The vine entwines beneath belief.

No shortcuts here, just sacred toil, A spirit walk through inner soil. Where AA’s lantern meets the root, And heals in silence, not dispute.

It’s not the high, but what runs deep— The truths we stir, the wounds we keep. A new path carved in ancient lore, Where sober hearts feel spirits roar.