Changing Woman’s Light, part 1 by Sara Wright     

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 Great Round
Pungent scent of
red pine and
spruce,
luminescent
lemony cottonwood
cobalt sky
steep gorges, sand
flakes of pink,  rust
a splash of bittersweet
translucent charcoal
flint
spiny cactus
juniper serpents
twisted into
fantastic shapes
a peak that pierces sky
flat topped
on one side
I belong to Her
and She to me
Mother of all
Creation.

Changing Woman’s Mountain

I have written before about Changing Woman’s Mountain located near Abiquiu New Mexico. Most call this mountain Cerro Pedernales and an image of the flat side of this mountain, her mesa, was made famous by artist Georgia O’Keefe.

 Astonished by my first glimpse I climbed a long serpentine road that wound around steep gorges, rivulets of water, open meadows and unbroken stretches of lush fragrant green forests to reach the backside of this mountain.  I couldn’t get over the fact that one side was a mesa and other was a peak that pierced the sky like a sword.

Continue reading “Changing Woman’s Light, part 1 by Sara Wright     “

Running with Hares, a Personal Reflection by Sara Wright

 

An overturned bowl
of starflakes,
lays down a new
pearl white blanket.
Earthbound
I shovel –
Silvery showers obscure –
and some paths
are slippery
in the dark.
Grooming a circle
round and round
I attend to listening.

When day cares intervene –
naught but Silence
though I try
to feel –  to sense
pure Voices
rising from
frozen ground.
Instead,
monotonous
gray seeps
through me
like a sieve.
Prickling skin
grows taut.

Some days
lonely for
thrumming
I neglect
to stay present
for Silence
as an end
in Herself.
Seeking change
I forget
to breathe
into Now. Continue reading “Running with Hares, a Personal Reflection by Sara Wright”

Deb Haaland, the Secretary of the Interior We Need by Anjeanette LeBoeuf

Wet Plate Collodion Image of the Congresswoman Haaland Taken by Shane Balkowitsch in Bismarck, North Dakota on June 23rd, 2019.

This past week brought an announcement from the 46th President Elect’s office on the nomination for the Secretary of Interior position, House of Representative Debra Haaland of New Mexico. This nomination has solidified President-Elect Biden and Vice President-Elect Harris’ promise to be a more inclusive, progressive, and diverse cabinet. This appointment is revolutionary, outstanding, and diverse. If this nomination is accepted, Deb Haaland will become the first Native American and first Native American woman to hold this position.

Continue reading “Deb Haaland, the Secretary of the Interior We Need by Anjeanette LeBoeuf”

In Sight (Part 2) by Sara Wright


This post follows In Sight (Part 1)

Yet, I was content enough here wasn’t I [living part of the year in Abiquiu, New Mexico]? The desert was starkly beautiful, and I loved the place I lived, doing my best to create a home, planting trees and creating small gardens. I had escaped the too long winters, the heavy physical work associated with them. Yet questions gnawed at me. What did it mean to feel at home? Why the profound feelings of emptiness and lack of clarity? And what about the light?

I couldn’t escape the problem of light. One of the reasons I set out for the river in the dark was because I wanted these walks to end before sunrise. There was a quality of intense light present during the day in the too thin air that I found disturbing. Too much light, air, wind, and on the other extreme, too much stone. The crust of the earth held little in the way of new life in the desert. Survival of any plant species was precarious and dependent on the rains that rarely came. Almost everything I planted ended up dead. The desert had little to offer in terms of containment for people or plants. The sky gods ruled the desert, and did so with an iron will. Stone doesn’t surrender; it is incapable of receiving. This was not a forgiving place. Continue reading “In Sight (Part 2) by Sara Wright”

In Sight (Part 1) by Sara Wright

Four years ago I made a radical decision to spend a winter in New Mexico. Maine winters were long and I was 71 years old. An unfinished experience 25 years ago had left me with a longing to spend more time in the desert. Although I had formed a deep and abiding relationship with my land in Maine over a period of almost 40 years and had constructed a small log cabin on this beautiful piece of property that has a brook on three sides, woods and fields, I wondered if at this stage of my life I should consider moving….

I was very fortunate to find a place to live In Abiquiu, NM, and eventually I was able to move into a friend’s newly built casita that bordered a tributary of the Rio Grande, which also abutted another friend’s property. This abutting property included a Bosque (river wetland). I was blessed to have a beautiful place to walk through without having to get into a car. Most hikes required driving somewhere, a practice I disliked.

I discovered over time that New Mexico was a land of extremes – and not the paradise I had expected. The one torturous summer I spent there under 100 plus degree heat made it clear that I could not live in this stifling sauna with its bloody burning sun year round. Wildfires burned continuously. The west winds roared churning up clouds of dust that choked the air, sometimes for days on end; and the winds were relentless, especially during the spring. I remembered fairy tales that spoke to the malevolence of the west wind; I imagined I could feel that power here. Continue reading “In Sight (Part 1) by Sara Wright”