As we stumble into awareness of our impact on the earth, Adams' poems arise shimmering like lit candles that focus the eye with her ruthless gaze into the human heart. She finds there a sanctuary of uncommon strengths and shadowed frailties where buried seeds root and bloom.A home for the homeless, a spa for the soul, these are poems for gardeners, hikers, ecologists, teachers, students, mystics and ministries. Adams plants a garden in your heart's fertile ground and sows her love poems with an experienced hand. "You must ...
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As we stumble into awareness of our impact on the earth, Adams' poems arise shimmering like lit candles that focus the eye with her ruthless gaze into the human heart. She finds there a sanctuary of uncommon strengths and shadowed frailties where buried seeds root and bloom.A home for the homeless, a spa for the soul, these are poems for gardeners, hikers, ecologists, teachers, students, mystics and ministries. Adams plants a garden in your heart's fertile ground and sows her love poems with an experienced hand. "You must marry the Earth," she announces in iridescent blossoms of poems. Tender moments shine like prisms hung in a breeze; others haunt with the evidence of our fears and carelessness. She takes you where time disappears: inside an okra seed, circle dancing, wilderness canoeing, making love, losing memory, even inside a dream to take a lesson with a blues man. You'll stand "ankle deep in this heathen holy land" at ocean's edge, time travel to swing from a beam in a Kansas barn, and mourn with her the savage losses common to us all.
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