Heal Through Story
A part of my journey is intertwined with my grandmother’s. I lay beside her small fragile frame and listen to
A part of my journey is intertwined with my grandmother’s. I lay beside her small fragile frame and listen to
Swallowed up on the soil of my ancestors There is a thirst For red land That no red man Can
Where does the darkness go when it leaves you? Sometimes I wonder if it follows just behind your shadow waiting