Self-educated in the art form, the love of nature, mankind, and their kinship to a higher power, are the cornerstones for her writing.
Night is blackest near the fires.
In America, the Lakota, the Cree believe nothing dies. Oh, frenzy of flames, the chant that will coax them back. After Sunset It is dark but not yet black, the sun gone just past the curve of the earth, and I sit, my thoughts on angels, outside on the cool grass beneath the gathering stars. Some say there is one for each of us who roam the fields of life, the streets, calling out the sane way, coming close, easy to the ear, though I can say I've never heard one. I don't claim to know the will of God or all the answers.