Rays of dawning yellow haze, Flood sternly standing stones, With dusty motion.
Author: Hannibal Rhoades
Hal Rhoades is a writer, occasional drawer of things and part-time poet.
Studying anthropology at the University of Durham kindled his passion for traditional knowledge, indigenous rights, hunter gatherer culture and human ecology as well as developing a keen interest in mythological and folkloric systems, the power of stories and the use of body art to establish identity.
Since graduating Hal has worked with these issues in a number of ways: As a contributor to Intercontinental Cry magazine, an online journal dedicated to providing an independent source of Indigenous news from around the globe. As communications and public outreach assistant at the Gaia Foundation which assists communities to revive their indigenous knowledge and secure land, seed, food and water sovereignty and to protect Sacred Natural Sites. And also in his own time, writing and drawing creatively.
Beneath dangling, dipping feet The water winds and wends, Speckled like a green night’s sky, With lost hands of dandelion clocks. • Catkins drop from melancholy trees, Fish jump occasionally, Long green tendrils of weed weave the pattern of the days. • Peaceful and intimate, The ripples grow. • Peaceful and infinite, The rivers flow. […]