Deep Time and Dreaming by Sara Wright

I am standing on top of a mountain looking over a landscape of unspeakable wild natural beauty that stretches as far as I can see. This is the ‘long view’ Read More …
I am standing on top of a mountain looking over a landscape of unspeakable wild natural beauty that stretches as far as I can see. This is the ‘long view’ Read More …
The day after the presidential election in 2016 I picked up what I initially thought was a saw whet owl wing while wandering down a red dirt road in Abiquiu Read More …
My relationship with Indigenous peoples reinforced my intuitive sense that seasonal turnings like the Spring Equinox need to be experienced when the ‘time’ is right. Time, in the Indigenous sense Read More …
I On long walks in fragmented forests, alone now, my dogs are old and ill, I seek the gift of silence so I can listen to trees, bees, and the Read More …
“She who grows old and then young again”. Myth and Commentary I want to begin by recounting the story of how Changing Woman came to be and why she was Read More …
Born of Stone and Trees Birthing a People from a Mountain of Light I hold slivers of her body touch numinous fragments worked by Peoples who honor and live the Read More …
January’s twilight hours draw me into her pale embrace stalactites and frozen streams whisper that winter’s skin is thin even with months to go flowing water is muted under seeded Read More …
I I forgot the ‘Original Instructions’ until She nudged me Black Bear Chloe Green Shoot alive or dead She lives on like the Evergreens she evolved with, climbed to safety Read More …
I spent hours writing you snaked by underground roots entering my story with your forked stick ‘Witches’ are a lie that christians made up to legitimize harm done to our Read More …
Lupita, Guadalupe – Your agave points of light glow in grave darkness. Hecate’s Moon is Red. The Raven slices the sky into shards. The River catches shivering stars. We remember Read More …
In September I was patient. My beloved birds were having a good year seeking food in natural places like my field I reminded myself over and over as they remained Read More …
I listened to my heart murmuring softly her voice a viscous fluid slow moving river changing course from right to left pumping molten minerals over bones tunneling around limbs amazement Read More …
The scent of balsam wafts through the room as I cut the boughs to make my annual wreath to honor all trees, those that still stand, those who are slaughtered. Read More …