for Darlene Wind and James Welch I could say grace was a woman with time on her hands, or a white buffalo escaped from memory. But in that dingy light it was a promise of balance. We once again understood the talk of animals, and spring was lean a...

Annie Finch Vines, leaves, roots of darkness, growing,now you are uncurled and cover our eyeswith the edge of winter skyleaning over us in icy stars.Vines, leaves, roots of darkness, growing,come with your seasons, your fullness, your end....

“This is the solstice, the still point of the sun, its cusp and midnight, the year’s threshold and unlocking, where the past lets go of and becomes the future; the place of caught breath, the door of a vanished house left ajar." — Margaret Atwo...

On Being — Michael Pollan and Katherine May, The Future of Hope 4...