Wanda Waterman While I was searching plants out in the forest The foemen of my people took me captive. They burned my fingers pointed in the fire. I didn’t cry, and the women called me brave. Soon I bore a … Continue reading Poem: Flint Fingers
When we’re able to examine the historical contexts of myths we can see that the myth may not have been a product of wishful thinking, anthropomorphising, or a child’s question. Rather it may have emerged from a profound need to … Continue reading MYTH: A RESPONSE TO EXTRAORDINARY LOSS?
The Mindful Bard 