Joy McCall knows more than she can tell about light and shadow. Gathering all that lies beyond her ken, she transforms it, word by word, into magic—starlight into starling, silence into sap rising, grief into a silver ring. This little book of poems is a hymn to the green hill, peopled with sowers and shepherds, blacksmiths and bears; a hymn to the wild of the woodland and the warmth of home. Read it, weeping, and rejoice. — Jenny Angyal, North Carolina – poet, author of Moonlight on Water and Only the Dance * * * In this second collection of ryuka, after ripples, Joy McCall enters into dreamtime to recover imagery, feelings, questions and answers from the very heart and precipice of our collective subconscious. This is poetry at its best... accessible, allusive, transportive, indelible, direct, connective, and brilliantly imaginative in providing a poetic landscape that we can walk in all the way home. — Tom Clausen, poet, author of Growing Late, Snapshot Press