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New Moon

Strawberry Moon Poetry

Original poems & photos by Sara Riggs

Pink Lady's Slipper

Delicate and strong,
pushing through into the sun,
through roots, rocky soil, rotting wood.
Bringing life with them for after they go.
Future seeks the light too.
Look up look down, behind and through,
their story is seen, but untold.
Seed tells the truth, but knows not of his past.
A wish, a memory, a sense.
Fragile and good,
finding a place between the shade,
peace amongst the rays.

EARTH DAY - Reflections 

What if we thought of our bodies like the Earth, and the Earth like our bodies?
What if we decided they were one in the same?

We don’t allow our bodies to build up dirt, so why should we let trash fill her creeks and ditches?
We don’t walk around telling the Earth she’s ugly or worthless or doesn’t deserve compassion, so why do we tell our bodies these terrible things?

We place value and esteem more in other’s words and thoughts; do you think the Earth really cares what other earths, planets and stars think about her?

When it comes down to it we all want the the same; to be seen and heard, and accept our bodies - believing we’re good, they’re good.
What if we stopped changing Earth’s surfaces, listened to what she is saying and spent time really seeing her - all of her extensions, all of her fault lines, her highest peaks and deepest abyss, her creativity, her growth, her changes... why not offer this to ourselves too? The same way.

What if we took care of the Earth like our bodies? What if we loved our bodies like our Earth? What could we gain?


Red Spruce 

We came to find you.
They say you’re outsiders the wrong land
But it was I who felt like I was trespassing.
You’ve been here, all of you, for centuries before us.

You’re on display for all to see.
You’re warm, confident, fearless and proud.
You stand rooted in your place,

claiming what those before you gave you.
Consistent and true.

I feel honored to have spent this moment with you;
smiling, in awe, tearful, palms upward.
We connected, shared breath,
and then it was time to leave the sacred land.

I left worrying about you.
What will become of your future in a world that forgets it’s place?
As I looked back you told me not to worry.
You told me you were safe.
Young saplings stretch out at your feet waiting for their place in the sun.

Hundreds have come before me,
but I will not forget our time together.

For you helped me see that even though we’re told you’re in the wrong place,

you’re right where you should be.
And at that moment in time I too was right where I needed to be.
For I am the traveler,

and you are home.

* Photo is of a Red Spruce tree in a high elevation bog. Red Spruce are common in Canada and are rare to see this south in the lower 50 states.


Let your body take up space,
Let your skin feel warmth from the sun.
Let your legs move at their own pace,
and follow your center into the open.

- Moving Forward

A Mountain Hike in Winter

A snowy path through the woods,

spending more time with your footing, hearing the crunching of snow as you step,

a cold pinch on your face,

and the still-quiet of the forest.


Smelling an embodiment of fresh,

nothing and also something,

the snow looks blue,

then white,

then gold,

back to blue.


I'm Not Small

In the woods,

I never feel small.
I might feel scared,

but not small.
Sometimes I think I’m an imposter,

yet still not small.
There are moments of regret and sadness,

but I still feel big and tall,

never small.
Like the swaying pine I bend, I move, I keep growing tall,

and I won’t be small.

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