Milky Oats
Avena sativa
wrap me in buttered clouds and pour me over tall grasses
sink into stone, gaze lazily at the wind
can you move slower? watch the trail of the slug’s slime.
yes, slower still.
the Moon speaks in milk. she reminds you of the quiet pockets behind your ears and ankles.
the beckonings of rest, and coatings of sap begging to drip down your spine.
there is no where to be. rub your fingertips across your lips
lay down in the rustling strands, and listen as the crickets wake to the crimson setting sun.
DS 2026
“The Waking Moon” Arthur John Black
botanical identification
immature oat seed tops: hanging from upright stems harvestable after flowering and before oat seed hardens
Poaceae family: a part of the grass family with upright hollow stems that can grow to 4 feet tall.
in process of making fresh milky oat tincture with immature oat seed tops in PA
electric green - finished blending of fresh milky oats tincture
christine harvesting at duvall herb farm in washington state
their offerings
forms - fresh milky oats - tincture / oat straw - tea
nervous system nourishment
parts used: immature oat seed tops / aerials
energetics: sweet, slightly moistening, neutral, mild
✧ deeply nourishing to an overstimulated nervous system - a lot of the times when we reach for more stimulants to keep us going, we really need to reach for foods and medicine that can restore our depletion.
✧ building up a burnt out individual without being sedative
✧ use after a period of great effort, extreme stress, heavy toll on the body
✧ used in formulas focused on nerve damage in the body
✧ higher doses and over a longer period of time yield the best results
✧ oat straw used as tea is high in calcium and other essential minerals, drunk as a nutritive tonic
✧ oatmeal from the ripe grains is a nourishing food, and can be used topically to reduce skin irritation and itchiness.
the time to harvest, when milky sap is released when oat buds are pinched
“Oat Harvest” Carl Larsson
At Harvest
Earth travails,
Like a woman come to her time.
The swaying corn-haulms
In the heavy place of the field
Cry to be gathered.
Apples redden, and drop from their rods.
Our of their sheath of prickly leaves
The marrows creep, fat and white.
The blue pallor of ripeness
Comes on the fruit of the vine-branch.
Fecund and still fecund
After aeons of bearing:
Not old, not dry, not wearied out;
But fresh as when the unseen Right Hand
First moved on Bri,
And the candle of day was set,
And dew fell from the stars’ feet,
And cloths of greenness covered thee.
Let me kiss thy breasts:
I am thy son and lover.
Womb-fellow am I of the sunburnt oat,
Friendly gossip of the mearings.
(1916)
Joseph Campbell