Wild Local Medicinal Plant Mandalas

I sat down here to write about why I am falling in love with plants.  But I think Mary Oliver says it really well with this poem, and I'll let the drawings speak for me.

Messenger

My work is loving the world.

Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird--

    equal seekers of sweetness.

Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.

Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.

Are my boots old?  Is my coat torn?

Am I no longer young, and still not half-perfect?  Let me 

    keep my mind on what matters,

which is my work,

which is mostly standing still and learning to be 

    astonished.

The phoebe, the delphinium.

The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.

Which is mostly rejoicing, since all the ingredients are here,

which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart

    and these body-clothes,

a mouth with which to give shouts of joy

    to the moth and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam

telling them all, over and over, how it is

    that we live forever.

-Mary Oliver Thirst