The Water Mumbled Mantra Into My Dreams. {poetry}
Children jack-knife off rock perches, lovers kiss, moms float babies downstream cradled in bright inner tubess, lap-happy dogs paddle the water.
Feel the Pain in Its Entirety Before You Can Heal.
You are retrieving compelling information you have forgotten. You are remembering who you were before they told you what to be.
America Bleeds People, and She Needs You in Her Veins.
If we could go back, what would we do differently? When people are victimized by the laws of our country, does the end justify the means?
We Regress Back to Refined Terror. {poetry}
In this war, those who have everything will fight back, as they did in the Renaissance. Nobody can live in half a palace.
The Evening I Ended up Going to Jail.
Thad came forth and admitted to his part in the crime... I served one year of probation and never saw the inside of a jail cell again.
I Need the Highway Like Kerouac Needed His Road.
Hope grows on farm stands in America. Where this pandemic has made everything right seem wrong, the only real thing I can make sense of is this highway.
Mama: On Never Fully Receiving a Mother’s Love. {poetry}
What if that love was only fractionally given, leaving a sense memory of what is longed for but can no longer be fulfilled?
To the Villanelles Out There: It Will All Fall Into Place.
To all the misfits, rebels, creatives and sensitives who feel out of place, the world loves your uniqueness. You tell people to "go get a real life."
Contemplative Cycling: I Must Wrestle With My Anxieties With Fire.
This condition defines and structures this whole cycling thing: when the engaged body is under maximal exertion, the higher order capacities blossom forth.
What It Means to Be a Witch: From the Voices of Wild Women Describing Their Magickal Path. {Part One}
Many women branch out and explore what it is to be a witch, and it is a deeply personal journey. One of individuality but also of diversity and inclusivity.