(Poetry) Roots of Change by Sara Wright
The Desert Mothers peer out of pale pink apple blossoms, fringed chamisa clumps of gray green asters… A glittering diamond frost coats dark red ground. Redwing and Dove songs celebrate Read More …
The Desert Mothers peer out of pale pink apple blossoms, fringed chamisa clumps of gray green asters… A glittering diamond frost coats dark red ground. Redwing and Dove songs celebrate Read More …
I want to begin by recounting the story of how Changing Woman came to be and why she was so important to Navajo mythology. In these dark and tumultuous times Read More …
Last summer when I returned to Maine I was very homesick for Abiquiu. I had collected a couple of succulents to bring home with me. The first was a string Read More …
Raspberry spines prick my skin but do not harm me as I gently dislodge you from stones and soil, praying out loud for permission. You thrive here as the Bears Read More …
Yesterday old eyes stung – fierce white heat – blurred vision. Singing love songs, I scattered seeds in furrows raked smooth, tucked tufts under stone… Imagining a Wildflower riot! Bittersweet Read More …
Red Willow River’s waters are rising. Sea green waves wash whittled beaver sticks against pebble strewn shores. I bend. filling a miniature vessel with river water to hold her song: Read More …
A couple of days ago I was climbing a mesa with my friend Iren who is “a guide to the wild places” – those places off the beaten track where Read More …
Yesterday it snowed. Great white flakes fluttered down like butterflies from the sky and stuck to every leaf and thorn – covering the red earth with a delicate lace shawl. Read More …
When “The Storm Left No Flowers” During the last year I have been struggling with the catastrophic effects of Climate Change like never before as I witness the continuation of Read More …
This morning I awakened to the same smoky blue gray clouds that brought in twilight last night, clouds that bled black ink into a fiery sky. The air was mild, Read More …
For the past couple of days my friend Iren and I have been preparing for the Christmas party at the Pueblo. Every year Iren, who is a gifted artist, works Read More …
I awaken to the lovely song of my dove who is coaxing up the dawn as the turning of the wheel is occuring. When I go outside to feed the Read More …
Earth cracks in mud expose unwelcome truths, the takeover of women’s minds by the need for power, driven by hunger to be loved – even by unworthy men. Read More …